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THE JOURNAL 



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SIR WALTER SCOTT 

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POPULAR EDITION 




NEW YORK 

HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE 

1891 



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PREFACE 



On the death of Sir Walter Scott, in 1832, his entire literary re- 
mains were placed at the disposal of his son-in-law, Mr. John Gibson 
Lockhart. Among these remains were two volumes of a Journal 
which had been kept by Sir Walter from 1825 to 1832. Mr. Lock- 
hart made large use of this Journal in his admirable life of his father- 
in-law. Writing, however, so short a time after Scott's death, he 
could not use it so freely as he might have wished, and, according to 
his own statement, it was "by regard for the feelings of living per- 
sons " that he both omitted and altered ; and, indeed, he printed no 
chapter of the Diary in full. 

There is no longer any reason why the Journal should not be pub- 
lished in its entirety, and by the permission of the Hon. Mrs. Max- 
well-Scott it now appears exactly as Scott left it — but for the correc- 
tion of obvious slips of the pen, and the omission of some details 
chiefly of family and domestic interest. 

The original Journal consists of two small 4to volumes, 9 inches by 
8, bound in vellum, and furnished with strong locks. The manuscript 
is closely written on both sides, and towards the end shows painful 
evidence of the physical prostration of the writer. The Journal ab- 
ruptly eloses, towards the middle of the second volume, with the fol- 
lowing entry — probably the last words ever penned by Scott : 

by one of the old Pontiffs hut which I forget^ and so paraded the streets by moonlight 
to discover if possible some appearance of the learned Sir William Gell or the pretty 
Mistress Ashley. 

At length we found our old servant who guided us to the lodgings taken by Sir 
William Gell where all was comfortable a good fire included which our fatigue and 
the chilliness of the night required. We dispersed as soon as we had taken some food 
and wine and water. 

We slept reasonably, but on the next m.orning 



iv PREFACE 

In the annotations, it seemed most satisfactory to follow as closely 
as possible the method adopted by Mr. Lockhart. In the case of 
those parts of the Journal that have been already published, almost 
all Mr. Lockhart's notes have been reproduced, and these are distin- 
guished by his initials. Extracts from the Life, from James Skene 
of Rubislaw's unpublished Reminiscences, and from unpublished let- 
ters of Scott himself and his contemporaries, have been freely used 
wherever they seemed to illustrate particular passages in the Journal. 

With regard to Scott's quotations a certain diflSculty presented it- 
self. In his Journal he evidently quoted from memory, and he not 
unfrequently makes considerable variations from the originals. Oc- 
casionally, indeed, it would seem that he deliberately made free with 
the exact words of his author, to adapt them more pertinently to his 
own mood or the impulse of the moment. In any case it seemed best 
to let Scott's quotations appear as he wrote them. His reading lay 
in such curious and unfrequented quarters that to verify all the 
sources is a nearly impossible task. It is to be remembered, also, 
that he himself held very free notions on the subject of quotation. 

I have to thank the Hon. Mrs. Maxwell-Scott for permitting me to 
retain for the last three years the precious volumes in which the Jour- 
nal is contained, and for granting me access to the correspondence of 
Sir Walter preserved at Abbotsford, and I have likewise to acknowl- 
edge the courtesy of His Grace the Duke of Buccleuch for allowing 
me the use of the Scott letters at Dalkeith. To Mr. W. F. Skene, 
Historiographer Royal for Scotland, my thanks are warmly rendered 
for intrusting me with his precious heirloom, the volume which con- 
tains Sir W^alter's letters to his father, and the Reminiscences that ac- 
company them — one of many kind oflBces towards me during the last 
thirty years in our relations as author and publisher. I am also 
obliged to Mr. Archibald Constable for permitting me to use the in- 
teresting Memorandum by James Ballantyne. 

Finally, I have to express my obligation to many other friends, who 
never failed cordially to respond to any call I made upon them. 

D. D. 

Edinburgh, 22 Drummond Place, 
October 1, 1890. 



SIR WALTER SCOTT'S JOURNAL 



NOVEMBER 

[Edinburgh,'] November 20, 1825. — I have all my life regretted 
that I did not keep a regular Journal. I have myself lost recollection 
of much that was interesting, and I have deprived my family and 
the public of some curious information, by not carrying this resolu- 
tion into effect. I have bethought me, on seeing lately some vol- 
umes of Byron's notes, that he probably had hit upon the right way 
of keeping such a memorandum-book, by throwing aside all pretence 
to regularity and order, and marking down events just as they oc- 
curred to recollection. I will try this plan; and behold I have a 
handsome locked volume, such as might serve for a lady's album. 
Nota bene, John Lockhart, and Anne, and I are to raise a Society for 
the suppression of Albums. It is a most troublesome shape of men- 
dicity. Sir, your autograph — a line of poetry — or a prose sentence ! 
— Among all the sprawling sonnets, and blotted trumpery that dis- 
honours these miscellanies, a man must have a good stomach that can 
swallow this botheration as a compliment. 

I was in Ireland last summer, and had a most delightful tour. It 
cost me upwards of £500, including £100 left with Walter and Jane, 
for we travelled a large party and in style. There is much less ex- 
aggerated about the Irish than is to be expected. Their poverty is 
not exaggerated ; it is on the extreme verge of human misery ; their 
cottages would scarce serve for pig-styes, even in Scotland, and their 
rags seem the very refuse of a rag-shop, and are disposed on their 
bodies with such ingenious variety of wretchedness that you would 
think nothing but some sort of perverted taste could have assembled 
so many shreds together. You are constantly fearful that some knot 
or loop will give, and place the individual before you in all the 
primitive simplicity of Paradise. Then for their food, they have only 
potatoes, and too few of them. Yet the men look stout and healthy, 
the women buxom and well-coloured. 

Dined with us, being Sunday, Will. Clerk and Charles Kirkpatrick 
Sharpe. W. C. is the second son of the celebrated author of Naval 

1 



2 JOURNAL [Nov. 

Tactics.^ I have known him intimately since our college days ; and, 
to my thinking, never met a man of greater powers, or more complete 
information on all desirable subjects. In youth he had strongly the 
Edinburgh pr-uritus disputandi ; but habits of society have greatly 
mellowed it, and though still anxious to gain your suffrage to his 
views, he endeavours rather to conciliate your opinion than conquer it 
by force. Still there is enough of tenacity of sentiment to prevent, 
in London society, where all must go slack and easy, AV. C. from ris- 
ing to the very top of the tree as a conversation man, who must not 
only wdnd the thread of his argument gracefully, but also know when 
to let go. But I like the Scotch taste better ; there is more mat- 
ter, more information, above all, more spirit in it. Clerk will, I am 
afraid, leave the world little more than the report of his fame. He 
is too indolent to finish any considerable work.^ Charles Kirkpatrick 
Sharpe is another very remarkable man. He was bred a clergyman, 
but did not take orders, owing I believe to a peculiar effeminacy of 
voice which must have been unpleasant in reading prayers. Some 
family quarrels occasioned his being indifferently provided for by a 
small annuity from his elder brother, extorted by an arbitral decree. 
He has infinite wit and a great turn for antiquarian lore, as the pub- 
lications of Kirkton^^ etc., bear witness. His drawings are the most 
fanciful and droll imaginable — a mixture between Hogarth and some 
of those foreign masters who painted temptations of St. Anthony, 
and such grotesque subjects. As a poet he has not a very strong 
touch. Strange that his finger-ends can describe so well what he 
cannot bring out clearly and firmly in words. If he were to make 
drawing a resource, it might raise him a large income. But though 
a lover of antiquities, and therefore of expensive trifles, C. K. S. is 
too aristocratic to use his art to assist his revenue. He is a very 
complete genealogist, and has made many detections in Douglas and 
other books on pedigree, which our nobles would do well to suppress 
if they had an opportunity. Strange that a man should be curious 
after scandal of centuries old ! Not but Charles loves it fresh and 
fresh also, for, being very much a fashionable man, he is always mas- 
ter of the reigning report, and he tells the anecdote with such gusto 
that there is no helping sympathising with him — the peculiarity of 
voice adding not a little to the general effect. My idea is that C. K. S., 
with his oddities, tastes, satire, and high aristocratic feelings, resem- 
bles Horace Walpole — perhaps in his person also, in a general way. — 
See Miss Hawkins' Anecdotes^ for a description of the author of The 
Castle of Otranto. 

1 An Essay on Naval Tactics, Systematical 3 Secret and True History of the Church of 
and Historical, xoith explanatory plates. In Scotland from the Restoration to the year 1678. 
four parts. By John Clerk. 410. Lond. 1790. 4to. Ediu. 1817. 

2 William Clerk, of Eldin. the prototype of 
Darsie Latimer in Redgauntle.t, ''admired 

through life for talents and learning of which * Anecdotes, Biographical Sketches, and Me- 

he has left no monument," died at Edinburgh 7noirs, collected by La3titia Matilda Hawkins, 
in January, 1847. 8vo. Lond. 1822. 



1825.] JOURNAL 3 

No other company at dinner except my cheerful and good-hu- 
moured friend Missie Macdonald,^ so called in fondness. One bottle 
of champagne with the ladies' assistance, two of claret. I observe 
that both these great connoisseurs w^ere very nearly, if not quite, 
agreed, that there are no absolutely undoubted originals of Queen 
Mary. But how then should we be so very distinctly informed as to 
her features ? What has become of all the originals which suggested 
these innumerable copies ? Surely Mary must have been as unfortu- 
nate in this as in other particulars of her life.^ 

November 21. — I am enamoured of my journal. I wish the zeal 
may but last. Once more of Ireland. I said their poverty was not 
exaggerated ; neither is their wdt — nor their good-humour — nor their 
whimsical absurdity — nor their courage. 

Wit. — I gave a fellow a shilling on some occasion when sixpence 
was the fee. " Remember you owe me sixpence, Pat." " May your 
honour live till I pay you !" There was courtesy as well as wit in 
this, and all the clothes on Pat's back would have been dearly 
bought by the sum in question. 

Good-humour. — There is perpetual kindness in the Irish cabin ; 
butter-milk, potatoes, a stool is offered, or a stone is rolled that your 
honour may sit down and be out of the smoke, and those who beg 
everywhere else seem desirous to exercise free hospitality in their 
own houses. Their natural disposition is turned to gaiety and hap- 
piness ; while a Scotchman is thinking about the term-day, or, if easy 
on that subject, about hell in the next world — while an Englishman 
is making a little hell of his own in the present, because his muffin 
is not well roasted — Pat's mind is always turned to fun and ridicule. 
They are terribly excitable, to be sure, and will murther you on slight 
suspicion, and find out next day that it was all a mistake, and that it 
was not yourself they meant to kill at all at all. 

Absurdity. — They were widening the road near Lord Claremont's 
seat as we passed. A number of cars were drawn up together at a 
particular point, where we also halted, as we understood they were 
blowing a rock, and the shot was expected presently to go off. After 
waiting two minutes or so, a fellow called out something, and our car- 
riage as a planet, and the cars for satellites, started all forward at 
once, the Irishmen whooping and crying, and the horses galloping. 
Unable to learn the meaning of this, I was only left to suppose that 
they had delayed firing the intended shot till we should pass, and that 
we were passing quickly to make the delay as short as possible. No 
such thing. By dint of making great haste, we got within ten yards 
of the rock when the blast took place, throwing dust and gravel on 
our carriage, and had our postillion brought us a little nearer (it was 

1 Miss Macdonald Buchanan of Drummakill. vived Sir Walter till the year 1851. In the Sir 

—J- G. L. Mungo Malagrowther of The Fortunes of Nigel 

^ Mr. Sharpe, whose Zetters and J/emoiV were some of Sharpe's peculiarities are not unfaith- 

published in two volumes 8vo, Edin. 1888, sur- fully mirrored. 



4 JOURNAL [Nov. 

not for want of hallooing and flogging that he did not), we should 
have had a still more serious share of the explosion. The explana- 
tion I received from the drivers was, that they had been told by the 
overseer that as the mine had been so long in going off^ he dared say 
we would have time to pass it — so we just waited long enough to 
make the danger imminent. I have only to add that two or three 
people got behind the carriage, just for nothing but to see how our 
honours got past. 

Went to the Oil Gas Committee^ this morning, of which concern I 
am president, or chairman. It has amused me much by bringing me 
into company with a body of active, business-loving, money-making 
citizens of Edinburgh, chiefly Whigs by the way, whose sentiments 
and proceedings amuse me. The stock is rather low in the market, 
3os. premium instead of £5. It must rise, however, for the advan- 
tages of the light are undeniable, and folks will soon become accus- 
tomed to idle apprehensions or misapprehensions. From £20 to £25 
should light a house capitally, supposing you leave town in the vaca- 
tion. The three last quarters cost me £10, 10s., and the flrst, £8, 
was greatly overcharged. We will see what this, the worst and dark- 
est quarter, costs. 

Dined with Sir Robert Dundas,^ where we met Lord and Lady 
Melville. My little nieces (ex officio) gave us some pretty music. I do 
not know and cannot utter a note of music ; and complicated harmo- 
nies seem to me a babble of confused though pleasing sounds. Yet 
songs and simple melodies, especially if connected with words and 
ideas, have as much effect on me as on most people. But then I hate 
to hear a young person sing without feeling and expression suited to 
the song. I cannot bear a voice that has no more life in it than a 
pianoforte or a bugle-horn. There is something about all the fine 
arts, of soul and spirit, which, like the vital principle in man, defies the 
research of the most critical anatomist. You feel where it is not, yet 
you cannot describe what it is you want. Sir Joshua, or some other 
great painter, was looking at a picture on which much pains had been 
bestowed — " Why, yes," he said, in a hesitating manner, " it is very 
clever — very well done — can't find fault ; but it wants something ; it 
wants — it wants, damn me — it wants that " — throwing his hand over 
his head and snapping his fingers. Tom Moore's is the most exqui- 

1 One of the numerous joint-stock adventures 2 sir Robert Dundas of Beechwood, one of 
which were so common in Edinburgh at this Scott's colleagues at the "Clerks' Table" — son 
time. There had already been formed a Gas- of the parish minister of Humbie, and kinsman 
light Company in 1818, for the manufacture of of Lord and Lady Melville ; he died in 1835. 
gas from coal, but the projectors of this new Some of the other gentlemen with whom the 
venture believed they could produce a purer duties of his ofiQce brought Scott into close daily 
and more powerful light by the use of oil. It connection were David Hume, Hector Macdon- 
was not successful commercially, and, as is told aid Buchanan, and Colin Mackenzie of Port- 
in the Journal, the rival company acquired the more. With these families, says Jlr. Lockhart, 
stock and plant a few years after the formation "he and his lived in such constant familiarity 
of this "Oil Gas Co.,'"" of which Sir Walter had of kindness, that the children all called their 
been Chairman from 1823. father's colleagues imdfs^ and the mothers of 

Seeii/e, vol. vii. pp. 141,144, 197, 251, 374; and their little Mends aunts : and in truth the es- 

viii. p. 113; Cockburn's Memorials (for 1825). tablishment was a brotherhood." 



1825.] JOURNAL B 

site warbling I ever heard. Next to liim, David Macculloch^ for Scots 
songs. The last, when a boy at Dumfries, was much admired by 
Burns, who used to get him to try over the words which he composed 
to new melodies. He is brother of MaccuUoch of Ardwell. 

November 22. — Moore. I saw Moore (for the first time, I may 
say) this season. We had indeed met in public twenty years ago. 
There is a manly frankness, and perfect ease and good breeding about 
him which is delightful. Not the least touch of the poet or the ped- 
ant. A little — very little man. Less, I think, than Lewis, and some- 
what like him in person ; God knows, not in conversation, for Matt, 
though a clever fellow, was a bore of the first description. Moreover, 
he looked always like a schoolboy. I remember a picture of him be- 
ing handed about at Dalkeith House. It was a miniature I think by 
Sanders,^ who had contrived to muffle Lewis's person in a cloak, and 
placed some poignard or dark lanthorn appurtenance (I think) in his 
hand, so as to give the picture the cast of a bravo. " That like Mat 
Lewis ?" said Duke Henry, to whom it had passed in turn ; " why, 
that is like a man !" Imagine the effect ! Lewis was at his elbow. ^ 
Now Moore has none of this insignificance ; to be sure his person 
is much stouter than that of M. G. L., his countenance is decidedly 
plain, but the expression is so very animated, especially in speaking or 
singing, that it is far more interesting than the finest features could 
have rendered it. 

I was aware that Byron had often spoken, both in private society 
and in his Journal, of Moore and myself in the same breath, and with 
the same sort of regard ; so I was curious to see what there could be 
in common betwixt us, Moore having lived so much in the gay world, 
I in the country, and wdth people of business, and sometimes with 
politicians ; Moore a scholar, I none ; he a musician and artist, I 
without knowledge of a note ; he a democrat, I an aristocrat — with 
many other points of difference ; besides his being an Irishman, I a 
Scotchman, and both tolerably national. Yet there is a point of re- 
semblance, and a strong one. We are both good-humoured fellows, 
who rather seek to enjoy what is going forward than to maintain our 
dignity as lions ; and we have both seen the world too widely and too 
well not to contemn in our souls the imaginary consequence of lit- 
erary people, who walk with their noses in the air, and remind me 
always of the fellow whom Johnson met in an alehouse, and who 

1 Mrs. Thomas Scott's brother. Ian Cunningham, " that he thought he had 

2 George L. Sanders, born at Kinghorn, 1774 ; ?^^'f /°^<; ^"f ^ f.^^^o^. ,f ^^^"^ ' ^^^ mo^k " 
died in London 1846 & » . mvited him to dine with him at his hotel." 

' ■ Lewis died in 1818, and Scott says of him, "He 
Sir Walter told Moore that Lewis was the did much good by stealth, and was a most gen- 
person who first set him upon trying his tal- erous creature— fonder of great people than he 
ent at poetry, adding that "he had passed the ought to have been, either as a man of talent 
early part of his life with a set of clever, rat- or as a man of fashion. He had always ladies 
tling, drinking fellows, whose thoughts and and duchesses in his mouth, and was pathet- 
talents lay wholly out of the region of jwetry." ically fond of any one that had a title. Mat 
Ihirty years after having met Lewis in Edin- had queerish eyes— they proiected like those 
burgh for the first time in 1798, he said to Al- of some insects, and wereflattish on the orbit." 



6 JOURNAL [Nov. 

called himself " the great Twalmley — inventor of the floodgate iron 
for smoothing linen." He also enjovs the mot pour rire^ and so 
do I. 

Moore has, I think, been ill-treated about Byron's Memoirs ; he 
surrendered them to the family (Lord Byron's executors) and thus 
lost £2000 which he had raised upon them at'a most distressing mo- 
ment of his life. It is true they offered and pressed the money on 
him afterwards, but they ought to have settled it with the booksellers 
and not put poor Tom's spirit in arms against his interest.' I think 
at least it might have been so managed. At any rate there must be 
an authentic life of Byron by somebody. Why should they not give 
the benefit of their materials to Tom Moore, whom Byron had made 
the depositary of his own Memoirs ? — but T. M. thinks that Cam Hob- 
house has the purpose of writing Byron's life himself. He and Moore 
were at sharp words during the negotiation, and there was some ex- 
planation necessary before the affair ended. It was a pity that noth- 
ing save the total destruction of Byron's Memoirs would satisfy his 
executors.^ But there was a reason — Preniat nox alta. 

It would be a delightful addition to life if T. M. had a cottage 
within two miles of one. We went to the theatre together, and the 
house, being luckily a good one, received T. M. with rapture. I could 
have hugged them, for it paid back the debt of the kind reception I 
met with in Ireland.^ 

Here is a matter for a May morning, but much fitter for a Novem- 
ber one. The general distress in the city has affected H. and R.,* 
Constable's great agents. Should they go, it is not likely that Con- 
stable can stand, and such an event would lead to great distress and 
perplexity on the part of J. B. and mj'self. Thank God, I have 
enough at least to pay forty shillings in the pound, taking matters at 
the very worst. But much distress and inconvenience must be the 
consequence. I had a lesson in 1814 which should have done good 
upon me, but success and abundance erased it from my mind. But 
this is no time for journalising or moralising either. Necessity is 
like a sour-faced cook-maid, and I a turn-spit whom she has flogged 
ere now, till he mounted his wheel. If W-st-k° can be out by 25th 
January it will do much, and it is possible. 

1 Moore's friends seera to have recognized fact." — Clayden, Rogers and Ms Contempora- 

his thorough manliness and independence of ries, vol. i. p. 378. 

character. Lord John Russell testifies: " Nev- 2 Moore's Life of Byron was published in two 

er did he make wife or family a pretext for po- vols, ito in 1830, and dedicated to Sir Walter 

litical shabbiness — never did he imagine that Scott by "his affectionate friend, T. M." See 

to leave a disgraced name as an inheritance to this Journal under ilarch 4, 1828. 

his children was a duty as a father" {Memoirs, ^ "I parted from Scott,"' says Moore, "with 

vol. i. pp. xiii and xiv), and when Rogers urged the feeling that all the world might admire 

this plea of family as a reason why he should him in his works, but that those only could 

accept the money, Moore said, "More mean learn to love him as he deserved who had seen 

things have been done in this world under the him at Abbotsford." Moore died February 26, 

shelter of ' wife and children' than under any 1852; see Moore's Life, vol. iv. pp. 329-42, and 

pretext worldly-mindedness can resort to. " To vol. v. pp. 13-14. 

which S. R. only said, "Well, your life may be * Hurst and Robinson, Booksellers, London. 

a good poem, but it is a bad matter of ^ Woodstock was at this time nearly com- 
pleted. 



1825.] JOURNAL 

-'s son lias saved his comrade on shipboard by throwing him- 



self overboard' and keeping the other afloat — a very gallant thing. 
But the Gran giag' Asso^ asks me to write a poem on the civic crown, 
of which he sends me a description quoted from Adam's Antiquities, 
which mellifluous performance is to persuade the Admiralty to give 
the young conservator promotion. Oh ! he is a rare head-piece, an 
admirable Merron. I do not believe there is in nature such a full- 
acorned Boar.'' 

Could not write to purpose for thick-coming fancies ; the wheel 
would not turn easily, and cannot be forced. 

"My spinning-wheel is auld and stiff, 
The rock o't winna stand, sir ; 
To keep the temper-pin in tiff 
Employs aft my hand, sir."^ 

Went to dine at the L[ord] J[ustice]-C[lerk's]* as I thought by 
invitation, but it was for Tuesday se'nnight. Returned very well 
pleased, not being exactly in the humour for company, and had a 
beef -steak. My appetite is surely, excepting in quantity, that of a 
farmer ; for, eating moderately of anything, my Epicurean pleasure is 
in the most simple diet. Wine I seldom taste when alone, and use 
instead a little spirits and water. I have of late diminished the quan- 
tity, for fear of a weakness inductive to a diabetes — a disease which 
broke up my father's health, though one of the most temperate men 
who ever lived. I smoke a couple of cigars instead, which operates 
equally as a sedative — 

"Just to drive the cold winter away, 
And drown the fatigues of the day." 

I smoked a good deal about twenty years ago when at Ashestiel ; 
but, coming down one morning to the parlour, I found, as the room 
was small and confined, that the smell was unpleasant, and laid aside 
the use of the Nicotian weed for many years ; but was again led to 
use it by the example of my son, a hussar oflficer, and my son-in-law, 
an Oxford student. I could lay it aside to-morrow ; I laugh at the 
dominion of custom in this and many things. 

" We make the giants first, and then — do not kill them." 

November 23. — On comparing notes with Moore I was confirmed 
in one or two points which I had always laid down in considering 
poor Byron. One was, that like Rousseau he was apt to be very sus- 
picious, and a plain downright steadiness of manner was the true 
mode to maintain his good opinion. Will Rose told me that once, 

1 Probably Sir Walter's dog-Italian for "great 3 "My Jo Janet," Tea-Tdble Miscellany. 
donkey." 4 The Right Hon. David Boyle, who was at 

2 Cymbeline, Act 11. Sc. 5. the time residing at 28 Charlotte Square. 



8 JOURNAL [Nov. 

while sitting with Byron, he fixed insensibly his eyes on his feet, one 
of which, it must be remembered, was deformed. Looking up sud- 
denly, he saw Byron regarding him with a look of concentrated and 
deep displeasure, which Avore off when he observed no consciousness 
or embarrassment in the countenance of Rose. Murray afterwards 
explained this, by telling Rose that Lord Byron was very jealous of 
having this personal imperfection noticed or attended to. In anoth- 
er point, Moore confirmed my previous opinion, namely, that Byron 
loved mischief-making. Moore had written to him cautioning him 
against the project of establishing the paper called the Liberal, in 
communion with such men as P. B. Shelley and Hunt,^ on whom he 
said the world had set its mark. Byron showed this to the parties. 
Shelley wrote a modest and rather affecting expostulation to Moore. '^ 
These two peculiarities of extreme suspicion and love of mischief are 
both shades of the malady which certainly tinctured some part of 
the character of this mighty genius ; and, without some tendency 
towards which, genius — I mean that kind which depends on the, im- 
aginative power — perhaps cannot exist to great extent. The wheels 
of a machine, to play rapidly, must not fit with the utmost exact- 
ness, else the attrition diminishes the impetus. 

Another of Byron's peculiarities was the love of mystifying ; 
which indeed may be referred to that of mischief. There was no 
knowing how much or how little to believe of his narratives. In- 
stance : — Mr. Bankes^ expostulating with him upon a dedication 
which he had written in extravagant terms of praise to Cam Hob- 
house, Byron told him that Cam had teased him into the dedication 
till he had said, " Well ; it shall be so, — providing you will write the 
dedication yourself " ; and affirmed that Cam Hobhouse did write 
the high-coloured dedication accordingly. I mentioned this to Mur- 
ray, having the report from Will Rose, to whom Bankes had men- 
tioned it. Murray, in reply, assured me that the dedication Avas writ- 
ten by Lord Byron himself, and showed it me in his own hand. I 
wrote to Rose to mention the thing to Bankes, as it might have made 
mischief had the story got into the circle. Byron w^as disposed to 
think all men of imagination were addicted to mix fiction (or poetry) 
with their prose. He used to say he dared believe the celebrated 
courtezan of Venice, about whom Rousseau makes so piquant a 
story, was, if one could see her, a draggle-tailed wench enough. I 
believe that he embellished his own amours considerably, and that 
he was, in many respects, le fanfaron de vices quHl Ti'avoit pas. He 
loved to be thought awful, mysterious, and gloomy, and sometimes 



1 A quarterly journal edited by Leigh Hunt, 3 TTilliam Bankes, of whom Rogers said, 
" The Liberal— Verse and Frose from the " Witty as Sydney Smith was, I have seen him 
iSoMtt," of which fournumbers only were pub- at my own house absolutely overpowered hy 
lished. 1822-1823. the superior facetiousuess of W B." Mr. 

2 See Dowden's Life of Shelley, vol. ii. pp. Bankes died in Venice in 1855. 
448-9, 507-8; also Moore's Byron, vol. v. pp. 

313-321, and Russell's Moore, vol. iii. p. 353. 



1825.] JOURNAL 9 

hinted at strange causes. I believe the whole to have been the crea- 
tion and sport of a wild and powerful fancy. In the same nianner 
he crammed people, as it is termed, about duels, etc., which never ex- 
isted, or were much exaggerated. 

Constable has been here as lame as a duck upon his legs, but his 
heart and courage as firm as a cock. He has convinced me we will 
do well to support the London House. He has sent them about 
£5000, and proposes we should borrow on our joint security £5000 for 
their accommodation. J. B. and R. Cadell present. I must be guided 
by them, and hope for the best. Certainly to part company would 
be to incur an awful risk. 

What I liked about Byron, besides his boundless genius, was his 
generosity of spirit as well as purse, and his utter contempt of all 
the affectations of literature, from the school-magisterial style to the 
lackadaisical. Byron's example has formed a sort of upper house of 
poetry. There is Lord Leveson Cower, a very clever young man.' 
Lord Porchester too,^ nephew to Mrs. Scott of Harden, a young man 
who lies on the carpet and looks poetical and dandyish — fine lad too, 
but— 

" There will be many peers 
Ere such another Byron." 

Talking of Abbotsford, it begins to be haunted by too much com- 
pany of every kind, but especially foreigners. I do not like them. 
I hate fine waistcoats and breast-pins upon dirty shirts. I detest the 
impudence that pays a stranger compliments, and harangues about his 
works in the author's house, which is usually ill-breeding. Moreover, 
they are seldom long of making it evident that they know nothing 
about what they are talking of, except having seen the Lady of the 
Lake at the Opera. 

Dined at St. Catherine's^ with Lord Advocate, Lord and Lady 
Melville, Lord Justice-Clerk,* Sir Archibald Campbell of Succoth, all 
class companions and acquainted well for more than forty years. All 
except Lord J. C. were at Eraser's class. High School.^ Boyle joined 
us at college. There are, besides. Sir Adam Ferguson, Colin Macken- 
zie, James Hope, Dr. James Buchan, Claud Russell, and perhaps two 
or three more of and about the same period — but 

" Apparent rari nantes in gurgite vasto."® 

iLord Leveson Gower, afterwards first Earl (on the ground that as a just patron he could 

of EUesmere, had already published his trans- not give it to the son-in-law of his old friend ! ! ) 

lation of Faust in 1823, and a volume of " orig- was understood to be the cause of Mr. Lock- 

inal poems," and "translations," in the fol- hart's quitting the Bar and devoting himself 

lowing year. entirely to literature. Sir William Rae died at 

2 Henry J. G. Herbert, Lord Porchester, after- St. Catherine's on the 19th October, 1842. 
wards third Earl of Carnarvon, had published * David Boyle of Shewalton, L. J. C. from 
The Moor in 1825, and Don Pedro in 1826. 1811, and Lord President from 1841 till 1852. 

3 St. Catherine's, the .seat of Sir William Rae, He died in 1853. 

Bart., then Lord Advocate, is about three miles ^ See Autobiography, 1787, in Life, vol. i. pp. 

from Edinburgh.— J. g. l. Sir William Rae's 39, 40. 

refusal of a legal appointment to ilr. Lockhart * Virg. JSn. i. 122. 



10 JOURNAL [Nov. 

November 24. — Talking of strangers, London lield, some four or 
five years since, one of those animals who are lions at first, but by 
transmutation of two seasons become in regular course Boars ! — Ugo 
Foscolo by name, a haunter of Murray's shop and of literary parties. 
Ugly as a baboon, and intolerably conceited, he spluttered, blustered, 
and disputed, without even knowing the principles upon which men 
of sense render a reason, and screamed all the while like a pig when 
they cut its throat. Another such Animaluccio is a brute of a Sicil- 
ian Marquis de who wrote something about Byron. He in- 
flicted two days on us at Abbotsford. They never know what to 
make of themselves in the forenoon, but sit tormenting the women to 
play at proverbs and such trash. 

Foreigner of a different cast, — Count Olonym (Olonyne — that's it), 
son of the President of the Royal Society and a captain in the Im- 
perial Guards. He is mean-looking and sickly, but has much sense, 
candour, and general information. There was at Abbotsford, and is 
here, for education just now, a young Count Davidoff, with a tutor 
Mr. Colly er. He is a nephew of the famous Orloffs. It is quite sur- 
prising how much sense and sound thinking this youth has at the 
early age of sixteen, without the least self-conceit or forwardness. 
On the contrary, he seems kind, modest, and ingenuous.^ To ques- 
tions which I asked about the state of Russia he answered with the 
precision and accuracy of twice his years. I should be sorry the say- 
ing were verified in him — 

"So wise, so young, they say, do ne'er live long."2 

Saw also at Abbotsford two Frenchmen whom I liked, friends of Miss 
Dumergue. One, called Le Noir, is the author of a tragedy which he 
had the grace never to quote, and which I, though poked by some 
malicious persons, had not the grace even to hint at. They were 
disposed at first to be complimentary, but I convinced them it was 
not the custom here, and they took it well, and were agreeable. 

A little bilious this morning, for the first time these six months. 
It cannot be the London matters which stick on my stomach, for that 
is mending, and may have good effects on myself and others. 

Dined with Robert Cockburn. Company, Lord Melville and fam- 
ily ; Sir John and Lady Hope ; Lord and Lady R. Kerr, and so forth. 
Combination of colliers general, and coals up to double price ; the 
men will not work, although, or rather because, they can make from 
thirty to forty shillings per week. Lord R. K. told us that he had a 

1 M. Davidoff has, in his mature life, amply 2 King Richard III.. Act iii. Sc. 1. Count 
justified Sir Walter's prognostications. He Orloff Davidoff lived to falsify this "saying." 
has, I understand, published in the Russian He revisited England in 1872. and had the pleas- 
language a tribute to the memory of Scott. ure of meeting with Scotfs great-granddaugh- 
But his travels in Greece and Asia Minor are ter, and talking to her of these old happy Ab- 
well known, and considered as in a high degree botsford days, 
honourable to his taste and learning.— [1839 ] 



1825.] JOURNAL 11 

letter from Lord Forbes (son of Earl Granard, Ireland), that lie was 
asleep in his house at Castle Forbes, when awakened by a sense of 
suffocation which deprived him of the power of stirring a limb, yet 
left him the consciousness that the house was on fire. At this mo- 
ment, and while his apartment was in flames, his large dog jumped on 
the bed, seized his shirt, and dragged him to the staircase, where the 
fresh air restored his powers of exertion and of escape. This is very 
different from most cases of preservation of life by the canine race, 
when the animal generally jumps into the water, in which [element] 
he has force and skill. That of fire is as hostile to him as to man- 
kind. 

November 25. — Read Jeffrey's neat and well-intended address^ to 
the mechanics upon their combinations. Will it do good ? Umph. 
It takes only the hand of a Lilliputian to light a fire, but would re- 
quire the diuretic powers of Gulliver to extinguish it. The Whigs 
will live and die in the heresy that the world is ruled by little pam- 
phlets and speeches, and that if you can sufficiently demonstrate that 
a line of conduct is most consistent with men's interest, you have 
therefore and thereby demonstrated that they will at length, after a 
few speeches on the subject, adopt it of course. In this case we 
would have [no] need of laws or churches, for I am sure there is no 
difficulty in proving that moral, regular, and steady habits conduce to 
men's best interest, and that vice is not sin merely, but folly. But 
of these men each has passions and prejudices, the gratification of 
which he prefers, not only to the general weal, but to that of himself 
as an individual. Under the action of these wayward impulses a 
man drinks to-day though he is sure of starving to-morrow. He 
murders to-morrow though he is sure to be hanged on Wednesday ; 
and people are so slow to believe that which makes against their own 
predominant passions, that mechanics will combine to raise the price 
for one week, though they destroy the manufacture forever. The best 
remedy seems to be the probable supply of labourers from other 
trades. Jeffrey proposes each mechanic shall learn some other trade 
than his own, and so have two strings to his bow. He does not con- 
sider the length of a double apprenticeship. To make a man a good 
weaver and a good tailor would require as much time as the patriarch 
served for his two wives, and after all, he would be but a poor work- 
man at either craft. Each mechanic has, indeed, a second trade, for 
he can dig and do rustic work. Perhaps the best reason for break- 
ing up the association will prove to be the expenditure of the mon- 
ey which they have been simple enough to levy from the industrious 
for the support of the idle. How much provision for the sick and 
the aged, the widow and the orphan, has been expended in the at- 
tempt to get wages which the manufacturer cannot afford them, with 
any profitable chance of selling his commodity ? 

i Combinations of Workmen. Substance of a speech by Francis Jeffrey. 8vo. Edin. 1825. 



12 JOURNAL [Nov. 

I had a bad fall last night coming home. There were unfinished 
houses at the east end of AthoU Place, ^ and as I was on foot, I 
crossed the street to avoid the material which lay about; but, de- 
ceived by the moonlight, I stepped ankle-deep in a sea of mud (hon- 
est earth and water, thank God), and fell on my hands. Never was 
there such a representative of Wall in Pyramus and Thisbe — I was 
absolutely rough -cast. Luckily Lady S. had retired when I came 
home ; so I enjoyed my tub of water without either remonstrance or 
condolences. Cockburn's hospitality will get the benefit and renown 
of my downfall, and yet has no claim to it. In future though, I must 
take a coach at night — a control on one's freedom, 
but it must be submitted to. I found a letter from weeks after recording 
[R.] C[adell], giving a cheering account of things in ^^J^r^'i found"! 
London. Their correspondent is getting into his was unable to keep a 
strength. Three days ago I would have been con- ^^"'^e^^^^"- 
tented to buy this consola, as Judy says,^ dearer than by a dozen falls 
in the mud. For had the great Constable fallen, O my countrymen, 
what a fall were there ! 

Mrs. Coutts, with the Duke of St. Albans and Lady Charlotte Beau- 
clerk, called to take leave of us. When at Abbotsford his suit throve 
but coldly. She made me, I believe, her confidant in sincerity.^ She 
had refused him twice, and decidedly. He was merely on the foot- 
ing of friendship. I urged it was akin to love. She allowed she 
might marry the Duke, only she had at present not the least intention 
that way. Is this frank admission more favorable for the Duke than 
an absolute protestation against the possibility of such a marriage? 
I think not. It is the fashion to attend Mrs. Coutts' parties and to 
abuse her. I have always found her a kind, friendly woman, without 
either affectation or insolence in the display of her wealth, and most 
willing to do good if the means be shown to her. She can be very 
entertaining too, as she speaks without scruple of her stage life. So 
much wealth can hardly be enjoyed without some ostentation. But 
what then? If the Duke marries her, he ensures an immense fort- 
une ; if she marries him, she has the first rank. If he marries a 
woman older than himself by twenty years, she marries a man young- 
er in wit by twenty degrees. I do not think he will dilapidate her 
fortune — he seems quiet and gentle. I do not think that she will 
abuse his softness — of disposition, shall I say, or of heart ? The dis- 
parity of ages concerns no one but themselves ; so they have my con- 
sent to marry, if they can get each other's. Just as this is written, 
enter my Lord of St. Albans and Lady Charlotte, to beg I would rec- 
ommend a book of sermons to Mrs. Coutts. Much obliged for her 

1 Mr. Robert Cockburn, Lord Cockburn's every word ending in tion, by the omission of 
brother, was then living at No. 7 Atholl Cres- the termination. Consola for consolation — 
cent. hothera for botheration, etc. etc. Lord Plun- 

2 This alludes to a strange old woman, keep- kett had taken care to parade Judy and all her 
er of a public-house among the Wicklow mount- peculiarities. — j. g. l. 

ains, who, among a world of oddities cut short 3 See the Duchess's Letter, p. 414. 



1825.] JOURNAL 13 

good opinion : recommended Logan's' — one poet should always 
speak for another. The mission, I suppose, was a little display 
on the part of good Mrs. Coutts of authority over her high aristo- 
cratic suitor. I do not suspect her of turning devote, and retract 
my consent given as above, unless she remains "lively, brisk, and 

jolly."' 

Dined quiet with wife and daughter. R[obert] Cadell looked in 
in the evening on business. 

I here register my purpose to practise economics. I have little 
temptation to do otherwise. Abbotsford is all that I can make it, 
and too large for the property ; so I resolve — 

No more building ; 

No purchases of land till times are quite safe ; 

No buying books or expensive trifles — I mean to any extent ; and 

Clearing off encumbrances, with the returns of this year's la- 
bour ; — 

Which resolutions, with health and my habits of industry, will 
make me " sleep in spite of thunder." 

After all, it is hard that the vagabond stock-jobbing Jews should, 
for their own purposes, make such a shake of credit as now exists in 
London, and menace the credit of men trading oh sure funds like 
H[urst] and Il[obinson]. It is just like a set of pickpockets, who 
raise a mob, in which honest folks are knocked down and plundered, 
that they may pillage safely in the midst of the confusion they have 
excited. 

November 26. — The court met late, and sat till one ; detained from 
that hour till four o'clock, being engaged in the perplexed affairs of 
Mr. James Stewart of Brugh. This young gentleman is heir to a 
property of better than £1000 a year in Orkney. His mother mar- 
ried very young, and was wife, mother, and widow in the course of 
the first year. Being unfortunately under the direction of a careless 
agent, she was unlucky enough to embarrass her own affairs by many 
transactions with this person. I v/as asked to accept the situation of 
one of the son's curators ; and trust to clear out his 
thLTp^i?c(msequence affairs and hers — at least I will not fail for want of 
of my own misfort- application. I have lent her £300 on a second 
(and therefore doubtful) security over her house in 
Newington, bought for £1000, and on which £600 is already secured. 
I have no connection with the family except that of compassion, and 
may not be rewarded even by thanks when the young man comes of 
age. I have known my father often so treated by those whom he 
had laboured to serve. But if we do not run some hazard in our at- 



1 The Rev. John Logan, minister of South took place on June 16, 1827, the lady having 
Leith, 1748-1788. The "Sermons" were not previously asked the consent of George i v.! ! A 
published until 1790-91. droll account of the reception of her Mercure 

2 For an account of her visit to Abbotsford, . galant at Windsor is given in the North BHtish 
see Life, vol. viii. pp. 72-76. The marriage Review, vol. xxxix. p. 349. 



U JOURNAL [Nov. 

tempts to do good, where is the merit of them? So I will hring 
through my Orkney laird if I can. Dined at home quiet with Lady 
S. and Anne. 

November 21. — Some time since John Murray entered into a con- 
tract with my son-in-law, John Gr. Lockhart, giving him on certain 
ample conditions the management and editorship of the Quarterly 
Review, for which they could certainly scarcely find a fitter person, 
both from talents and character. It seems that Barrow^ and one or 
two stagers have taken alarm at Lockhart's character as a satirist, 
and his supposed accession to some of the freaks in Blackwood's 
Magazine, and down comes young D'lsraeli^ to Scotland imploring 
Lockhart to make interest with my friends in London to remove ob- 
jections, and so forth. I have no idea of telling all and sundry that 
my son-in-law is not a slanderer, or a silly thoughtless lad, although 
he was six or seven years ago engaged in some light satires. I only 
wrote to Heber and to Southey — the first upon the subject of the re- 
ports which had startled Murray (the most timorous, as Byron called 
him, of all God's booksellers), and such a letter as he may show Bar- 
row if he judges proper. To Southey I wrote more generally, ac- 
quainting him of my son's appointment to the Editorship, and men- 
tioning his qualifications, touching, at the same time, on his very 
slight connection with Blackwood's Magazine, and his innocence as 
to those gambades which may have given offence, and which, I fear, 
they may ascribe too truly to an eccentric neighbour of their own. 
I also mentioned that I had heard nothing of the aSair until the 
month of October. I am concerned that Southey should know this ; 
for, having been at the Lakes in September, I would not have him 
suppose that I had been using interest with Canning or Ellis to 
supersede young Mr. Coleridge,^ their editor, and place my son-in-law 
in the situation ; indeed I was never more surprised than when this 
proposal came upon us. I suppose it had come from Canning origi- 
nally, as he was sounding Anne when at Colonel Bolton's* about 
Lockhart's views, etc. To me he never hinted anything on the sub- 
ject. Other views are held out to Lockhart which may turn to great 
advantage. Only one person (John Cay^ of Charlton) knows their 
object, and truly I wish it had not been confided to any one. Yes- 
terday I had a letter from Murray in answer to one I had written in 
something of a determined style, for I had no idea of permitting him 
to start from the course after my son giving up his situation and 
profession, merely because a contributor or two chose to suppose 
gratuitously that Lockhart was too imprudent for the situation. My 
physic has wrought well, for it brought a letter from Murray saying 

1 Sir John Barrow, the well-known Secre- (1790-1876), one of the Judges of the Court of 

tary to the Admiralty, who died In 1848 in his Queen's Bench, 

eighty-fifth year. 4 Storrs, Windermere. 

3 Benjamin Disraeli, afterwards Lord Bea- 6 john Cay, member of the Scotch Bar. Sher- 

consfield. iff of Linlithgow. He was one of Mr. Lockhart's 

? In after years Sir John Taylor Coleridge oldes't friends ; he died in 1865. 



1825.] JOURNAL 15 

all was right, that D' Israeli was sent to me, not to Lockhart, and that 
I was only invited to write two confidential letters, and other incohe- 
rencies — which intimate his fright has got into another quarter. It 
is interlined and franked by Barrow, which shows that all is well, 
and that John's induction into his office will be easy and pleasant. 
I have not the least fear of his success ; his talents want only a 
worthy sphere of exertion. He must learn, however, to despise petty 
adversaries. No good sportsman ought to shoot at crows unless for 
some special purpose. To take notice of such men as Hazlitt and 
Hunt in the Quarterly would be to introduce them into a world 
which is scarce conscious of their existence. It is odd enough that 
many years since I had the principal share in erecting this Review 
which has been since so prosperous, and now it is placed under the 
management of my son-in-law upon the most honourable principle of 
detur digniori. Yet there are sad drawbacks so far as family com- 
fort is concerned. To-day is Sunday, when they always dined with 
us, and generally met a family friend or two, but we are no longer to 
expect them. In the country, where their little cottage was within 
a mile or two of Abbotsford, we shall miss their society still more, 
for Chief swood was the perpetual object of our walks, rides, and 
drives. Lockhart is such an excellent family man, so fond of his 
wife and child, that I hope all will go well. A letter from Lockhart 
in the evening. All safe as to his unanimous reception in London ; 
his predecessor, young [Coleridge], handsomely, and like a gentleman, 
offers his assistance as a contributor, etc. 

November 28. — I have the less dread, or rather the less anxiety, 
about the consequences of this migration, that I repose much confi- 
dence in Sophia's tact and good sense. Her manners are good, and 
have the appearance of being perfectly natural. She is quite con- 
scious of the limited range of her musical talents, and never makes 
them common or produces them out of place, — a rare virtue ; more- 
over she is proud enough, and will not be easily netted and patron- 
ised by any of that class of ladies who may be called Lion-providers 
for town and country. She is domestic besides, and will not be dis- 
posed to gad about. Then she seems an economist, and on £3000,^ 
living quietly, there should be something to save. Lockhart must 
be liked where his good qualities are known, and where his fund of 
information has room to be displayed. But, notwithstanding a hand- 
some exterior and face, I am not sure he will succeed in London So- 
ciety ; he sometimes reverses the proverb, and gives the volte strette e 
pensiere sciolti, withdraws his attention from the company, or attach- 
es himself to some individual, gets into a corner, and seems to be 



1 Moore records that Scott told him " Lock- Oct. 29, vol. iv. p. 334. Jeffrey had £700 a year 
hart was about to undertake the Quarterhj, has as Editor of th& Edinburgh, and £2800 for con- 
agreed for five years; salary £1200 a year; and tributors: June, 1823, see Moore's Diary, vol, 
if he writes a certain number of articles it will iv. p. 89. 
be £1500 a year to him," Moore's Diary, under 



16 JOURNAL [Nov. 

quizzing the rest. This is the want of early habits of being in society, 
and a life led much at college. Nothing is, however, so popular, and 
so deservedly so, as to take an interest in whatever is going forward 
in society. A wise man always finds his account in it, and will re- 
ceive information and fresh views of life even in the society of fools. 
Abstain from society altogether when you are not able to play some 
part in it. This reserve, and a sort of Hidalgo air joined to his 
character as a satirist, have done the best-humoured fellow in the 
world some injury in the opinion of Edinburgh folks. In London it 
is of less consequence whether he please in general society or not, 
since if he can establish himself as a genius it will only be called 
" Pretty Fanny's Way." 

People make me the oddest requests. It is not unusual for an 
Oxonian or Cantab, who has outrun his allowance, and of whom I 
know nothing, to apply to me for the loan of £20, £50, or £100. A 
captain of the Danish naval service writes to me, that being in dis- 
tress for a sum of money by which he might transport himself to 
Columbia, to offer his services in assisting to free that province, 
he had dreamed I generously made him a present of it. I can 
tell him his dream by contraries. I begin to find, like Joseph Sur- 
face, that too good a character is inconvenient. I don't know what 
I have done to gain so much credit for generosity, but I suspect I 
owe it to being supposed, as Puff ^ says, one of those "whom Heav- 
en has blessed with affluence." Not too much of that neither, my 
dear petitioners, though I may thank myself that your ideas are not 
correct. 

Dined at Melville Castle, whither I went through a snow-storm. 
I was glad to find myself once more in a place connected with many 
happy days. Met Sir R. Dundas and my old friend George, now 
Lord Abercromby,^ with his lady, and a beautiful girl, his daughter. 
He is what he always was — the best-humoured man living ; and our 
meetings, now more rare than usual, are seasoned with a recollection 
of old frolics and old friends. I am entertained to see him just the 
same he has always been, never yielding up his own opinion in fact, 
and yet in words acquiescing in all that could be said against it. 
George was always like a willow — he never offered resistance to the 
breath of argument, but never moved from his rooted opinion, blow 
as it listed. Exaggeration might make these peculiarities highly 
dramatic : Conceive a man who always seems to be acquiescing in your 
sentiments, yet never changes his own, and this with a sort of bon- 
homie which shows there is not a particle of deceit intended. He is 
only desirous to spare you the trouble of contradiction. 

November 29. — A letter from Southey, malcontent about Murray 
having accomplished the change in the Quarterly without speaking 



1 Sheridan's Critic, Act i. Sc. 2. 2 George Abercromby, eldest son of Sir Ralph, 

the hero of the battle of Alexandria. 



1825.] JOURNAL 11 

to him, and quoting the twaddle of some old woman, male or female, 
about Lockhart's earlieT jeux d'' esprit, but concluding most kindly that 
in regard to my daughter and me he did not mean to withdraw. That 
he has done yeoman's service to the Beview is certain, with his gen- 
ius, his universal reading, his powers of regular industry, and at the 
outset a name which, though less generally popular than it deserves, 
is still too respectable to be withdrawn without injury. I could not 
in reply point out to him what is the truth, that his rigid Toryism 
and High Church prejudices rendered him an unsafe counsellor in a 
matter where the spirit of the age must be consulted ; but I pointed 
out to him what I am sure is true, that Murray, apprehensive of his 
displeasure, had not ventured to write to him out of mere timidity 
and not from any [intention to offend]. I treated [lightly] his old 
woman's apprehensions and cautions, and all that gossip about friends 
and enemies, to which a splendid number or two will be a sufficient 
answer, and I accepted with due acknowledgment his proposal of con- 
tinued support. I cannot say I was afraid of his withdrawing. Lock- 
hart will have hard words with him, for, great as Southey's powers 
are, he has not the art to make them work popularly ; he is often dif- 
fuse, and frequently sets much value on minute and unimportant facts, 
and useless pieces of abstruse knowledge. Living too exclusively in 
a circle where he is idolised both for his genius and the excellence 
of his disposition, he has acquired strong prejudices, though all of 
an upright and honourable cast. He rides his High Church hobby 
too hard, and it will not do to run a tilt upon it against all the world. 
Gifford used to crop his articles considerably, and they bear mark of 
it, being sometimes decousues. Southey said that Gifford cut out his 
middle joints. When John comes to use the carving-knife I fear Dr. 
Southey will not be so tractable. Nous verrons. I will not show 
Southey's letter to Lockhart, for there is to him personally no friend- 
ly tone, and it would startle the Hidalgo's pride. It is to be wished 
they may draw kindly together. Southey says most truly that even 
those who most undervalue his reputation would, were he to with- 
draw from the Review, exaggerate the loss it would thereby sustain. 
The bottom of all these feuds, though not named, is Blackwood^s 
Magazine; all the squibs of which, which have sometimes exploded 
among the Lakers, Lockhart is rendered accountable for. He must 
now exert himself at once with spirit and prudence.^ He has good 
backing — Canning, Bishop Blomfield, Gifford, Wright, Croker, Will 



1 The foUowiiig extract from a letter to Pro- Number or I should be in a pretty hobble. My 

fessor Wilson, urgently claiming his aid, shows belief is that he has been living on the stock 

that the new editor had lost no time in looking bequeathed by Giflford, and the contributions 

after his "first Number":— of a set of H es and other d— d idiots of 

Oriel. But mind now, Wilson, I am sure to 

"Mr. Coleridge has yesterday transferred to have a most hard struggle to get up a very good 

me the treasures of the Quarterly Review, and first Number, and if I do not, it will be the 

I must say, my dear Wilson, that his whole Devil." This letter was quoted in an abridged 

stock is not worth five shillings. Thank God, form in the Life of Professor Wilson by Mrs. 

other and better hands are at work for my first Gordon. 
2 



18 JOURNAL [Nov. 

Rose, — and is there not besides the Douglas V An excellent plot, ex- 
cellent friends, and full of preparations ? It was no plot of my mak- 
ing, I am sure, yet men will say and believe that [it was], though I 
never heard a word of the matter till first a hint from Wright, and 
then the formal proposal of Murray to Lockhart announced. I be- 
lieve Canning and Charles Ellis were the prime movers. Til puzzle 
my brains no more about it. 

Dined at Justice - Clerk's — the President — Captain Smollett, etc., 
— our new Command er-in-chi^f, Hon. Sir Robert O'Callaghan, brother 
to Earl of Lismore, a fine soldierly -looking man, with orders and 
badges ; — his brother, an agreeable man, whom I met at Lowther 
Castle this season. He composes his own music and sings his own 
poetry — has much humour, enhanced by a strong touch of national 
dialect, which is always a rich sauce to an Irishman's good things. 
Dandyish, but not o"ffensively, and seems to have a warm feeling for 
the credit of his country — rather inconsistent with the trifling and 
selfish quietude of a mere man of society. 

November 30. — I am come to the time when those who look out 
of the windows shall be darkened. I must now wear spectacles con- 
stantly in reading and writing, though till this winter I have made a 
shift by using only their occasional assistance. Although my health 
cannot be better, I feel my lameness becomes sometimes painful, and 
often inconvenient. Walking on the pavement or causeway gives 
me trouble, and I am glad when I have accomplished my return on 
foot from the Parliament House to Castle Street, though I can (tak- 
ing a competent time, as old Braxie^ said on another occasion) walk 
five or six miles in the country with pleasure. AVell — such things 
must come, and be received with cheerful submission. My early 
lameness considered, it was impossible for a man labouring under a 
bodily impediment to have been stronger or more active than I have 
been, and that for twenty or thirty years. Seams will slit, and el- 
bows will out, quoth the tailor; and as I was fifty-four on 15th Au- 
gust last, my mortal vestments are none of the newest. Then Walter, 
Charles, and Lockhart are as active and handsome young fellows as 
you can see ; and while they enjoy strength and activity I can hardly 
be said to want it. I have perhaps all my life set an undue value on 
these gifts. Yet it does appear to me that high and independent 
feelings are naturally, though not uniformly or inseparably, connect- 
ed with bodily advantages. Strong men are usually good-humoured, 
and active men. often display the same elasticity of mind as of body. 
These are superiorities, however, that are often misused. But even 
for these things God shall call us to judgment. 

Some months since I joined with other literary folks in subscrib- 

1 This probably refers to Archibald, Lord For notices of these valued friends see Life, 
Douglas, who had married the Lady Frances, vol. ii. pp. 27-8; iv. pp. 22, 70; and v. p. 230. 
Scott, sister of Henry, Duke of Buccleuch. 2 Robert Macqueen — Lord Braxfleld— Justice- 
Lord Douglas died on the 26th December, 1827. Clerk from 1788; he died in 1799. 



1825.] 



JOURNAL 



19 



ing a petition for a pension to Mrs. G-. of L.,^ which we thought was 
a tribute merited by her works as an authoress, and, in my opinion, 
much more by the firmness and elasticity of mind with which she 
had borne a succession of great domestic calamities. Unhappily 
there was only about £100 open on the pension list, and this the 

minister assigned in equal portions to Mrs. G- , and a distressed 

lady, grand-daughter of a forfeited Scottish nobleman. Mrs. G , 

proud as a Highland-woman, vain as a poetess, and absurd as a blue- 
stocking, has taken this partition in maiam partem, and written to 
Lord Melville about her merits, and that her friends do not consider 
her claims as being fairly canvassed, with something like a demand 
that her petition be submitted to the King. This is not the way to 
make her plack a bawbee, and Lord M., a little miffed in turn, sends 

the whole correspondence to me to know whether Mrs. G v/ill 

accept the £50 or not. Now, hating to deal with ladies when they 
are in an unreasonable humour, I have got the good-humoured " Man 
of Feeling " to find out the lady's mind, and I take on myself the task 
of making her peace with Lord M. There is no great doubt how it 
will end, for your scornful dog will always eat your dirty pudding.^ 
After all, the poor lady is greatly to be pitied ; — her sole remaining 
daughter, deep and far gone in a decline, has been seized with aliena- 
tion of mind. 

Dined with my cousin, R[obert] R[utherford], being the first in- 
vitation since my uncle's death, and our cousin Lieutenant-Colonel 
RusselP of Ashestiel, with his sister Anne — the former newly re- 
turned from India — a fine gallant fellow, and distinguished as a cav- 
alry officer. He came overland from India and has observed a good 

deal. General L of L , in Logan's orthography a fowl, Sir 

William Hamilton, Miss Peggie Swinton, AVilliam Keith, and others. 
Knight Marischal not well, so unable to attend the convocation of 
kith and kin. 



1 Mrs. Grant of Laggan, author of Letters 
from the Mountains, Superstitions of the High- 
landers, etc. Died at Edin. in 1838, aged 83. 

2 Scott had not the smallest hesitation in 
applying this unsavoury proverb to himself a 



few months later, when he unwillingly "im- 
peticosed the gratillity" for the critique on 
Gait's Omen. See this Journal, June 24, 1826. 
3 Afterwards Major-General Sir James Rus- 
sell, G.C.B. He died at Ashestiel in 1859 in 
his 78th year. 



DECEMBER 

December 1. — Colonel R[ussell] told me tliat the European Gov- 
ernment had discovered an ingenious mode of diminishing the num- 
ber of burnings of widows. It seems the Shaster positively enjoins 
that the pile shall be so constructed that, if the victim should repent 
even at the moment when it is set on fire, she may still have the 
means of saving herself. The Brahmins soon found it was necessary 
to assist the resolution of the sufferers, by means of a little pit into 
which they contrive to let the poor widow sink, so as to prevent her 
reaping any benefit from a late repentance. But the Government has 
brought them back to the regard of their law, and only permit the 
burning to go on when the pile is constructed with full opportunity 
of a locus iDenitentice. Yet the widow is so degraded if she dare to 
survive, that the number of burnings is still great. The quantity of 
female children destroyed by the Rajput tribes Colonel R. describes 
as very great indeed. They are strangled by the mother. The prin- 
ciple is the aristocratic pride of these high castes, who breed up no 
more daughters than they can reasonably hope to find matches for in 
their own tribe. Singular how artificial systems of feeling can be 
made to overcome that love of offspring which seems instinctive in 
the females, not of the human race only, but of the lower animals. 
This is the reverse of our system of increasing game by shooting the 
old cock-birds. It is a system would aid Malthus rarely. 

Nota bene, the day before yesterday I signed the bond for £5000, 
with Constable, for relief of Robinson's house. ^ I am to be secured 
by good bills. 

I think this journal will suit me well. If I can coax myself into 
an idea that it is purely voluntary, it may go on — ^Nulla dies sine 
lined. But never a being, from my infancy upwards, hated task- work 
as I hate it ; and yet I have done a great deal in my day. It is not 
that I am idle in my nature neither. But propose to me to do one 
thing, and it is inconceivable the desire I have to do something else 
— not that it is more easy or more pleasant, but just because it is 
escaping from an imposed task. I cannot trace this love of contra- 
diction to any distinct source, but it has haunted me all my life. I 
could almost suppose it was mechanical, and that the imposition of 
a piece of duty-labour operated on me like the mace of a bad billiard- 



J See ante, p. 12. Mr. James Ballantyne and Sir Walter in the propriety of assisting Robin- 
Mr. Cadell concurred \\\\.\\ Mr. Constable and son. 



Dec. 1825.] JOURNAL 21 

player, whicli gives an impulse to the ball indeed, but sends it off at 
a tangent different from the course designed by the player. Now, if 
I expend such eccentric movements on this journal, it will be turn- 
ing this wretched propensity to some tolerable account. If I had 
thus employed the hours and half-hours which I have whiled away 
in putting off something that must needs be done at last, " My Con- 
science !" I should have had a journal with a witness. Sophia and 
Lockhart came to Edinburgh to-day and dined with us, meeting Hec- 
tor Macdonald Buchanan, his lady, and Missie, James Skene and his 
lady, Lockhart's friend Cay, etc. They are lucky to be able to assem- 
ble so many real friends, whose good wishes, I am sure, will follow 
them in their new undertaking. 

December 2. — Rather a blank day for the Gurnal. Correcting 
proofs in the morning. Court from half -past ten till two ; poor dear 
Colin Mackenzie, one of the wisest, kindest, and best men of his 
time, in the country, — 1 fear with very indifferent health. From two 
till three transacting business with J. B. ; all seems to go smoothly. 
Sophia dined with us alone, Lockhart being gone to the west to bid 
farewell to his father and brothers. Evening spent in talking with 
Sophia on their future prospects. God bless her, poor girl ! she never 
gave me a moment's reason to complain of her. But, my God ! 
that poor delicate child, so clever, so animated, yet holding by this 
earth with so fearfully slight a tenure. Never out of his mother's 
thoughts, almost never out of his father's arms when he has but a sin- 
gle moment to give to anything. Deus providehit. 

December 3. — R. P. G.^ came to call last night to excuse himself 
from dining with Lockhart's friends to-day. I really fear he is near 
an actual standstill. He has been extremely improvident. When I 
first knew him he had an excellent estate, and now he is deprived, I 
fear, of the whole reversion of the price, and this from no vice or ex- 
treme, except a wasteful mode of buying pictures and other costly 
trifles at high prices, and selling them again for nothing, besides an 
extravagant housekeeping and profuse hospitality. An excellent dis- 
position, with a considerable fund of acquired knowledge, would have 
rendered him an agreeable companion, had he not affected singular- 
ity, and rendered himself accordingly singularly affected. He was 
very near being a poet — but a miss is as good as a mile, and he al- 
ways fell short of the mark. I knew him first, many years ago, when 
he was desirous of my acquaintance ; but he was too poetical for me, 
or I was not poetical enough for him, so that we continued only or- 
dinary acquaintance, with goodwill on either side, which R. P. G. 

» Robert Pierce Gillies, once proprietor of a Hest but most persevering of my friends— per- 
good estate in Kincardineshire, and member of severing in spite of my way wardness. "— Mg- 
the Scotch Bar. It is pleasant to find Mr. Gil- moirs of a Literary Veteran, including Sketch- 
lies expressing his gratitude for what SirWal- es and Anecdotes of the most distinguished 
ter had done for him more than twenty-five Literary Characters from 1794 to 1849 (3 vols., 
years after this paragraph was written. " He London, 1851), vol. i. p. 321. Mr, Gillies died in 
was," says R. P. G., "not only among the ear- 1861. 



22 JOURNAL [Dec. 

really deserves, as a more friendly, generous creature never lived. 
Lockliart hopes to get something done for him, being sincerely at- 
tached to him, but says he has no hopes till he is utterly ruined. 
That point, I fear, is not far distant ; but what Lockhart can do for 
him then I cannot guess. His last effort failed, owing to a curious 
reason. He had made some translations from the German, which he 
does extremely [well] — for give him ideas and he never wants choice 
of good words — and Lockhart had got Constable to offer some sort 
of terms for them. R. P. G. has always, though possessing a beauti- 
ful power of handwriting, had some whim or other about imitating 
that of some other person, and has written for months in the imita- 
tion of one or other of his friends. At present he has renounced this 
amusement, and chooses to write with a brush upon large cartridge 
paper, somewhat in the Chinese fashion, — so when his work, which 
was only to extend to one or two volumes, arrived on the shoulders 
of two porters, in immense bales, our jolly bibliopolist backed out of 
the treaty, and would have nothing more to do with R. P.^ He is a 
creature that is, or would be thought, of imagination all compact, and 
is influenced by strange whims. But he is a kind, harmless, friend- 
ly soul, and I fear has been cruelly plundered of money, which he 
now wants sadly. 

Dined with Lockhart's friends, about fifty in number, who gave 
him a parting entertainment. John Hope, Solicitor-General, in the 
chair, and Robert Dundas [of Arniston], croupier. The company most 
highly respectable, and any man might be proud of such an indica- 
tion of the interest they take in his progress in life. Tory principles 
rather too violently upheld by some speakers. I came home about 
ten ; the party sat late. 

December 4. — Lockhart and Sophia, with his brother William, 
dined with us, and talked over our separation, and the mode of their 
settling in London, and other family topics. 

December 5. — This morning Lockhart and Sophia left us early, 
and without leave-taking; when I rose at eight o'clock they were 
gone. This was very right. I hate red eyes and blowing of noses. 
Agere et pdti Romanum est. Of all schools commend me to the Sto- 
ics. We cannot indeed overcome our affections, nor ought we if we 
could, but we may repress them within due bounds, and avoid coax- 
ing them to make fools of those who should be their masters. I have 
lost some of the comforts to which I chiefly looked for enjoyment. 
Well, I must make the more of such that remain — God bless them. 
And so " I will unto my holy work again,"^ which at present is the 
description of that heilige Kleehlatt, that worshipful triumvirate, Dan- 
ton, Robespierre, and Marat. 

1 Mr. Gillies was, however, warmly welcomed 3 vols. Its failure with the public prevented a 

by another publisher in Edinburgh, who paid repetition of the experiment ! 
him £100 for his bulky siss., and issued the 

book in 1825 under' the title otThe Magic Ring, » s:ing Richard III.. Act iii. Sc. 7.— j. G. L, 



1825.] JOrRNAL 2S 

I cannot conceiv^e what possesses me, over every person besides, 
to mislay papers. I received a letter Saturday at e'en, enclosing a bill 
for £750 ; no deaf nuts. Well, I read it, and note the contents; and 
this day, as if it had been a wind-bill in the literal sense of the words, 
I search everywhere, and lose three hours of my morning — turn over 
all my confusion in the writing-desk — break open one or two letters, 
lest I should have enclosed the sweet and quickly convertible docu- 
ment in them, — send for a joiner, and disorganise my scrutoire, lest 
it should have fallen aside by mistake. I find it at last — the place 
where is of little consequence ; but this trick must be amended. 

Dined at the Royal Society Club, where, as usual, was a pleasant 
meeting of from twenty to twenty-five. It is a very good institution ; 
we pay two guineas only for six dinners in the year, present or ab- 
sent. Dine at five, or rather half-past five, at the Royal Hotel, where 
we have an excellent dinner, with soups, fish, etc., and all in good or- 
der ; port and sherry till half -past seven, then coffee, and we go to the 
Society. This has great influence in keeping up the attendance, it 
being found that this preface of a good dinner, to be paid for wheth- 
er you partake or not, brings out many a philosopher who might not 
otherwise have attended the Society. Harry Mackenzie, now in his 
eighty-second or third year, read part of an Essay on Dreams. Supped 
at Dr. Russell's usual party,^ which shall serve for one while. 

December 6. — A rare thing this literature, or love of fame or noto- 
riety which accompanies it. Here is Mr. H[enry] M[ackenzie] on the 
very brink of human dissolution, as actively anxious about it as if the 
curtain must not soon be closed on that and everything else.^ He 
calls me his literary confessor ; and I am sure I am glad to return 
the kindnesses which he showed me long since in George Square. 
No man is less known from his writings. We would suppose a re- 
tired, modest, somewhat affected man, with a white handkerchief, and 
a sigh ready for .every sentiment. No such thing : H. M. is alert as 
a contracting tailor's needle in every sort of business — a politician 
and a sportsman — shoots and fishes in a sort even to this day — and 
is the life of the company with anecdote and fun. Sometimes, his 
daughter tells me, he is in low spirits at home, but really I never see 
anything of it in society. 

There is a maxim almost universal in Scotland, which I should 
like much to see controlled. Every youth, of every temper and al- 
most every description of character, is sent either to study for the 
bar, or to a writer's office as an apprentice. The Scottish seem to 
conceive Themis the most powerful of goddesses. Is a lad stupid, 

1 Of the many Edinburgh suppers of this pe- and are occasionally mentioned in the Journal, 

riod, commemorated by Lord Cockburn, not the Dr. Russell died in 1836. 

least pleasant were the friendly gatherings in 2 Mr. Mackenzie had been consulting Sir Wal- 

30 Abercromby Place, the town house of Dr. ter about collecting his own juvenile poetry.— 

James Russell, Professor of Clinical Surgery. j. g. l. Though the venerable author of The 

They were given fortnightly after the meet- Man of Feeling did not die till 1831, he does 

ings of the Royal Society during the Session, not appear to have carried out his intention. 



24 J.OURNAL [Dec. 

the law will sharpen him ; — is he too mercurial, the law will make him 
sedate ; — has he an estate, he may get a sheriffdom ; — is he poor, the 
richest lawyers have emerged from poverty; — is he a Tory, he may 
become a depate-advocate ; — is he a Whig, he may with far better 
hope expect to become, in reputation at least, that rising counsel Mr. 

, when in fact he only rises at tavern dinners. Upon some such 

wild views lawyers and writers multiply till there is no life for them, 
and men give up the chase, hopeless and exhausted, and go into the 
army at five-and-twenty, instead of eighteen, with a turn for expense 
perhaps — almost certainly for profligacy, and with a heart embittered 
against the loving parents or friends who compelled them to lose six 
or seven years in dusting the rails of the stair with their black gowns, 
or scribbling nonsense for twopence a page all day, and laying out 
twice their earnings at night in whisky-punch. Here is R. L. now. 
Four or five years ago, from certain indications, I assured his friends 
he would never be a writer. Good-natured lad, too, when Bacchus is 
out of the question; but at other times so pugnacious, that it was 
wished he could only be properly placed where fighting was to be 
a part of his duty, regulated by time and place, and paid for accord- 
ingly. Well, time, money, and instruction have been thrown away, 
and now, after fighting two regular boxing matches and a duel with 
pistols in the course of one week, he tells them roundly he will be no 
writer, which common-sense might have told them before. He has 
now perhaps acquired habits of insubordination, unfitting him for the 
army, where he might have been tamed at an earlier period. He is 
too old for the navy, and so he must go to India, a guinea-pig on board 
a Chinaman, with what hope or view it is melancholy to guess. His 
elder brother did all man could to get his friends to consent to his 
going into the army in time. The lad has good-humor, courage, and 
most gentlemanlike feelings, but he is incurably dissipated, I hear ; so 
goes to die in youth in a foreign land. Thank God, I let Walter take 
his own way ; and I trust he will be a useful, honoured soldier, being, 
for his time, high in the service ; whereas at home he would probably 
have been a wine-bibbing, moorf owl-shooting, fox-hunting Fife squire 
— living at Lochore without either aim or end — and well if he were 
no worse. Dined at home with Lady S. and Anne. Wrote in the 
evening, 

December 7. — Teind day ;^ — at home of course. Wrote answers 
to one or two letters which have been lying on my desk like snakes, 
hissing at me for my dilatoriness. Bespoke a tun of palm-oil for Sir 
John Forbes. Received a letter from Sir W. Knighton, mentioning 
that the King acquiesced in my proposal that Constable's Miscellany 



1 Every alternate Wednesday during the ular affairs of the Church of Scotland. As the 

Winter and Summer sessions, the Lords Com- Teind Court has a separate establishment of 

missioners of Teinds (Tithes), consisting of a clerks and officers, Sir Walter was freed from 

certain number of the judges, held a ''Teind duty at the Parliament House on these days. 

Court " — for hearing cases relating to the sec- The Court now sits on alternate Mondays only. 



1825.] JOURNAL 25 

should be dedicated to liim. Enjoined, liowever, not to make this 
public, till the draft of dedication shall be approved. This letter tar- 
ried so long, I thought some one had insinuated the proposal was 
infra dig. I don't think so. The purpose is to bring all the stand- 
ard works, both in sciences and the liberal arts, within the reach of 
the lower classes, and enable them thus to use with advantage the 
education which is given them at every hand. To make boys learn 
to read, and then place no good books within their reach, is to give 
men an appetite, and leave nothing in the pantry save unwholesome 
and poisonous food, which, depend upon it, they will eat rather than 
starve. Sir William, it seems, has been in Germany. 

Mighty dark this morning ; it is past ten, and I am using my 
lamp. The vast number of houses built beneath us to the north cer- 
tainly render our street darker during the days when frost or haze 
prevents the smoke from rising. After all, it may be my older eyes. 
I remember two years ago, when Lord H. began to fail somewhat in 
his limbs, he observed that Lord S.^ came to Court at a more early 
hour than usual, whereas it was he himself who took longer time to 
walk the usual distance betwixt his house and the Parliament Square. 
I suspect old gentlemen often make such mistakes. A letter from 
Southey in a very pleasant strain as to Lockhart and myself. Of 
Murray he has perhaps ground to complain as well for consulting him 
late in the business, as for the manner in which he intimated to young 
Coleridge, who had no reason to think himself handsomely treated, 
though he has acquiesced in the arrangement in a very gentlemanlike 
tone. With these matters we, of course, have nothing to do ; having 
no doubt that the situation was vacant when M. offered it as such. 
Southey says, in alteration of Byron's phrase, that M. is the most 
timorous, not of God's, but of the devil's, booksellers. The truth I 
take to be that Murray was pushed in the change of Editor (which 
was really become necessary) probably by Gifford, Canning, Ellis, etc. ; 
and when he had fixed with Lockhart by their advice his constitution- 
al nervousness made him delay entering upon a full explanation with 
Coleridge. But it is all settled now — I hope Lockhart will be able to 
mitigate their High Church bigotry. It is not for the present day, 
savouring too much oi jure divino. 

Dined quiet with Lady S. and Anne. Anne is practising Scots 
songs, which I take as a kind compliment to my own taste, as hers 
leads her chiefly to foreign music. I think the good girl sees that I 
want and must miss her sister's peculiar talent in singing the airs of 
our native country, which, imperfect as my musical ear is, make, and 
always have made, the most pleasing impression on me. And so if 
she puts a constraint on herself for my sake, I can only say, in re- 
quital, God bless her. 

I have much to comfort me in the present aspect of my family. 

1 Mr. Lockhart suggests Lords Hermand and and the latter at 1 Park Place. 
Succoth, the former living at 124 George Street, 



26 JOURNAL [Dec. 

My eldest son, independent in fortune, united to an affectionate wife 
— and of good hopes in his profession ; my second, with a good deal 
of talent, and in the way, I trust, of cultivating it to good purpose ; 
Anne, an honest, downright, good Scots lass, in whom I would only 
wish to correct a spirit of satire ; and Lockhart is Lockhart, to whom 
I can most willingly confide the happiness of the daughter who chose 
him, and whom he has chosen. My dear wife, the partner of early 
cares and successes, is, I fear, frail in health — though I tru^ and pray 
she may see me out. Indeed, if this troublesome complaint goes on 
— it bodes no long existence. My brother was affected with the same 
weakness, which, before he was fifty, brought on mortal symptoms. 
The poor Major had been rather a free liver. But my father, the 
most abstemious of men, save when the duties of hospitality required 
him to be very moderately free with his bottle, and that was very sel- 
dom, had the same weakness which now annoys me, and he, I think, 
was not above seventy when cut off. Square the odds, and good-night 
Sir Walter about sixty. I care not, if I leave my name unstained, and 
my family properly settled. Sat est vixisse. 

December 8. — Talking of the vixisse, it may not be impertinent to 
notice that Knox, a young poet of considerable talent, died here a 
week or two since. His father was a respectable yeoman, and he 
himself, succeeding to good farms under the Duke of Buccleuch, be- 
came too soon his own master, and plunged into dissipation and ruin. 
His poetical talent, a very fine one, then showed itself in a fine strain 
of pensive poetry, called, I think. The Lonely Hearth, far superior to 
those of Michael Bruce, whose consumption, by the w^ay, has been the 
life of his verses. But poetry, nay, good poetry, is a drug in the pres- 
ent day. I am a wretched patron. I cannot go with a subscription- 
paper, like a pocket-pistol about me, and draw unawares on some hon- 
est country-gentleman, who has as much alarm as if I had used the 
phrase, "stand and deliver," and parts with his money with a grimace, 
indicating some suspicion that the crown-piece thus levied goes ulti- 
mately into the collector's own pocket. This I see daily done ; and 
I have seen such collectors, when they h^e exhausted Papa and 
Mamma, continue their trade among the misses, and conjure out of 
their pockets those little funds which should carry them to a play or 
an assembly. It is well people will go through this — it does some 
good, I suppose, and they have great merit who can sacrifice their 
pride so far as to attempt it in this way. For my part, I am a bad 
promoter of subscriptions ; but I wished to do what I could for this 
lad, whose talent I really admired ; and I am not addicted to admire 
heaven-born poets, or poetry that is reckoned very good considering. 
I had him, Knox,^ at Abbotsford, about ten years ago, but found him 

1 William Knox died 12th November. He Anderson, junior, of Edinburgh) remembers 

had published Songs of Israel, 1824, A Visit to that Sir Walter occasionall.y wrote to Knox and 

Dublin, 1824, The Harp of Zion, 1825, etc., be- sent him money— £10 at a time.— J. G. l. 
sides The Lonely Hearth. His publisher (Mr. 



1825.] JOURNAL 27 

unfit for that sort of society. I tried to help him, but there were 
temptations he could never resist. He scrambled on, writing for the 
booksellers and magazines, and living like the Otways, and Savages, 
and Chattertons of former days, though I do not know that he was 
in actual want. His connection with me terminated in begging a 
subscription or a guinea now and then. His last works were spirit- 
ual hymns, and which he wrote very well. In his own line of society 
he was said to exhibit infinite humour ; but all his works are grave 
and pensive, a style perhaps, like Master Stephen's melancholy,* af- 
fected for the nonce. 

Mrs. G[rant] of L. intimates that she will take her pudding — her 
pension, I mean (see 30th November), and is contrite, as H[enry] 
M[ackenzie] vouches. I am glad the stout old girl is not foreclosed ; 
faith, cabbing a pension in these times is like hunting a pig with a 
soap'd tail, monstrous apt to slip through your fingers.^ Dined at 
home with Lady S. and Anne. 

December 9. — Yesterday I read and wrote the whole day and even- 
ing. To-day I shall not be so happy. Having Gas-Light Company 
to attend at two, I must be brief in journalising. 

The gay world has been kept in hot water lately by the impudent 
publication of the celebrated Harriet Wilson, from earliest possi- 
bility, I supposed, who lived with half the gay world at hack and 
manger, and now obliges such as will not pay hush-money with a his- 
tory of whatever she knows or can invent about them. She must have 
been assisted in the style, spelling, and diction, though the attempt at 
wit is very poor, that at pathos sickening. But there is some good 
retailing of conversations, in which the style of the speakers, so far as 
known to me, is exactly imitated, and some things told, as said by in- 
dividuals of each other, which will sound unpleasantly in each other's 

ears. I admire the address of Lord A y, himself very severely 

handled from time to time. Some one asked him if H. W. had been 
pretty correct on the whole. " Why, faith," he replied, " I believe 
so " — when, raising his eyes, he saw Quentin Dick, whom the little jilt 
had treated atrociously — " what concerns the present company always 

excepted, you know," added Lord A y, with infinite presence of 

mind. As he was in pari casu with Q. D. no more could be said. 
After all, H. W. beats Con Philips, Anne Bellamy, and all former dem- 
ireps out and out. I think I supped once in her company, more 
than twenty years since, at Mat Lewis's in Argyle Street, where the 
company, as the Duke says to Lucio, chanced to be " fairer than 
honest." ' She was far from beautiful, if it be the same chiffonne^ but 
a smart saucy girl, with good eyes and dark hair, and the manners of 
a wild schoolboy. I am glad this accidental meeting has escaped her 

» In Ben Jonson's Every Man in his Hu- a handsome legacy came to her from an unex- 

mour. pected quarter. Memoir and Correspondence^ 

2 Providence was kinder to the venerable Lond. 1845, vol. iii. p. 71. 

lady than the Government, as at this juncture 3 Measure for Measure, Act iv. So. 3.— J. a. l 



28 JOURNAL [Dec. 

memory — or, perhaps, is not accurately recorded in mine — for, being 
a sort of French falconer, who hawk at all they see, I might have had 
a distinction which I am far from desiring. 

Dined at Sir John Hay's — a large party ; Skenes there, the New- 
enhams and others, strangers. In the morning a meeting of Oil Gas 
Committee. The concern lingers a little ; 

" It may do weel^ for ought it's done yet, 
But only — it's no just begun yet." ^ 

December 10. — A stormy and rainy day. Walked from the Court 
through the rain. I don't dislike this. Egad, I rather like it ; for no 
man that ever stepped on heath-er has less dread than I of catch-cold ; 
and I seem to regain, in buffeting with the wind, a little of the high 
spirit with which, in younger days, I used to enjoy a Tam-o'-Shanter 
ride through darkness, wind, and rain, — the boughs groaning and 
cracking over my head, the good horse free to the road and impatient 
for home, and feeling the weather as little as I did. 

" The storm around might roar and rustle, 
We didna mind the storm a whistle." 

Answered two letters — one, answer to a schoolboy, who writes him- 
self Captain of Giggleswick School (a most imposing title), entreating 
the youngster not to commence editor of a magazine to be entitled 
the " Yorkshire Muffin," I think, at seventeen years old ; second, to a 
soldier of the 79th, showing why I cannot oblige him by getting his 
discharge, and exhorting him rather to bear with the wickedness and 
profanity of the service, than take the very precarious step of deser- 
tion. This is the old receipt of Durandarte — Patience, cousin, and 
shuffle the cards ;^ and I suppose the correspondents will think I have 
been too busy in offering my counsel where I was asked for assist- 
ance. 

A third rogue writes to tell me — rather of the latest, if the matter 
was of consequence — that he approves of the first three volumes of 
the H[eart'\ of Midlothian, but totally condemns the fourth. Doubtless 
he thinks his opinion worth the sevenpence sterling which his letter 
costs. However, authors should be reasonably well pleased when 
three-fourths of their work are acceptable to the reader. The knave 
demands of me in a postscript, to get back the sword of Sir W[illiam] 
WalJace from England, where it was carried from Dumbarton Castle. 
I am not Master-General of the Ordnance, that I know. It was wrong, 
however, to take away that and Mons Meg. If I go to town this 
spring, I will renew my negotiation with the Great Duke for recovery 
of Mons Meg. 

There is no theme more awful than to attempt to cast a glance 

* Burns's Dedication to Gavin Hamilton.— ^ Don Quixote, Pt. ii. ch. 23. 

3. o. L. 



1825.] JOURNAL 29 

among the clouds and mists which hide the broken extremity of the 
celebrated bridge of Mirza/ Yet, when every day brings us nearer 
that termination, one would almost think that our views should be- 
come clearer, as the regions we are approaching are brought nigher. 
Alas ! it is not so : there is a curtain to be withdrawn, a veil to be 
rent, before we shall see things as they really are. There are few, I 
trust, who disbelieve the existence of a God ; nay, I doubt if at all 
times, and in all moods, any single individual ever adopted that hide- 
ous creed, though some have professed it. With the belief of a Deity, 
that of the immortality of the soul and of the state of future rewards 
and punishments is indissolubly linked. More we are not to know ; 
but neither are we prohibited from our attempts, however vain, to 
pierce the solemn sacred gloom. The expressions used in Scripture 
are doubtless metaphorical, for penal fires and heavenly melody are 
only applicable to bodies endowed with senses ; and, at least till the 
period of the resurrection of the body, the spirits of men, whether en- 
tering into the perfection of the just, or committed to the regions of 
punishment are incorporeal. Neither is it to be supposed that the 
glorified bodies which shall arise in the last day will be capable of the 
same gross indulgences with which they are now solaced. That the 
idea of Mahomet's paradise is inconsistent with the purity of our heav- 
enly religion will be readily granted; and see Mark xii. 25. Harmony 
is obviously chosen as the least corporeal of all gratifications of the 
sense, and as the type of love, unity, and a state of peace and perfect 
happiness. But they have a poor idea of the Deity, and the rewards 
which are destined for the just made perfect, who can only adopt the 
literal sense of an eternal concert — a never-ending Birthday Ode. I 
rather suppose there should be understood some commission from the 
Highest, some duty to discharge with the applause of a satisfied con- 
science. That the Deity, who himself must be supposed to feel love 
and affection for the beings he has called into existence, should dele- 
gate a portion of those powers, I for one cannot conceive altogether 
so wrong a conjecture. We would then find reality in Milton's sub- 
lime machinery of the guardian saints or genii of kingdoms. Nay, 
we would approach to the Catholic idea of the employment of saints, 
though without approaching the absurdity of saint-worship, which de- 
grades their religion. There would be, we must suppose, in these 
employments difficulties to be overcome, and exertions to be made, 
for all which the celestial beings employed would have certain appro- 
priate powers. I cannot help thinking that a life of active benevo- 
lence is more consistent with my ideas than an eternity of music. 
But it is all speculation, and it is impossible even to guess what we 
shall [do], unless we could ascertain the equally difficult previous 
question, what we are to be. But there is a God, and a just God — 
a judgment and a future life — and all who own so much let them act 

1 Spectator, No. 159.— j. G. l. 



30 JOURXAL [Dec. 

according to the faith that is in them. I would [not], of course, limit 
the range of my genii to this confined earth. There is the universe, 
with all its endless extent of worlds. 

Company at home — Sir Adam Ferguson and his Lady ; Colonel 
and Miss Russell; Count Davidoff, and Mr. Collyer. By the by, 
I observe that all men whose names are obviously derived from some 
mechanical trade, endeavour to disguise and antiquate, as it were, 
heir names, by spelling them after some quaint manner or other. 
Thus we have Collyer, Smythe, Tailleure ; as much as to say, My 
ancestor was indeed a mechanic, but it was a world of time ago, 
when the word was spelled very [differently]. Then we had young 
Whytbank and Will Allan the artist,^ a very agreeable, simple-man- 
nered, and pleasant man. 

December 11. — A touch of the morbus eruditorum, to which I am 
as little subject as most folks, and have it less now than when young. 
It is a tremor of the heart, the pulsation of which becomes painfully 
sensible — a disposition to causeless alarm — much lassitude — and de- 
cay of vigour of mind and activity of intellect. The reins feel weary 
and painful, and the mind is apt to receive and encourage gloomy 
apprehensions and causeless fears. Fighting with this fiend is not 
always the best way to conquer him. I have always found exercise 
and the open air better than reasoning. But such weather as is now 
without doors does not encourage la petite guerre, so we must give 
him battle in form, by letting both mind and body know that, sup- 
posing one the House of Commons and the other the House of Peers, 
my will is sovereign over both. There is a good description of this 
species of mental weakness in the fine play of Beaumout and Fletcher 
called The Lover'' s Progress, where the man, warned that his death is 
approaching, works himself into an agony of fear, and calls for assist- 
ance, though there is no apparent danger. The apparition of the 
innkeeper's ghost, in the same play, hovers between the ludicrous and 
[the terrible]. To me the touches of the former quality which it 
contains seem to augment the effect of the latter — they seem to give 
reality to the supernatural, as being circumstances with which an in- 
ventor would hardly have garnished his story.^ 

Will Clerk says he has a theory on the vitrified forts. I wonder 
if he and I agree. I think accidental conflagration is the cause. 

December 12. — Hogg came to breakfast this morning, having 
taken and brought for his companion the Galashiels bard, David 
Thomson,^ as to a meeting of " buzz Tividale poets." The honest 
grunter opines with a delightful- ^m^y^^e that Moore's verses are far 
owre sweet — answered by Thomson that Moore's ear or notes, I for- 



1 Sir William Allan, President of the Royal 3 For notices of David Thomson, see Life, 
Scottish Academy from 1838: he died at Edin- October. 1822, and T. Craig Brown's History of 
burgh in 1850. Selkirkshire, 2 vols, dto, Kdin. 1886, vol. i, pp. 

2 Beaumont and Fletcher, Svo, Lend. 1788. 505, 507, and 519. 
vol. v. pp. 410-413, 419, 426. 



1825.] JOURNAL 31 

get which, were finely strung. " They are far owre finely strung," 
replied he of the Forest, " for mine are just reeght." It reminded 
me of Queen Bess, when questioning Melville sharply and closely 
whether Queen [Mary] was taller than her, and, extracting an answer 
in the aflSrmative, she replied, " Then your Queen is too tall, for I am 
just the proper height." 

Was engaged the whole day with Sheriff Court processes. There 
is something sickening in seeing poor devils drawn into great expense 
about trifles by interested attorneys. But too cheap access to litiga- 
tion has its evils on the other hand, for the proneness of the lower 
class to gratify spite and revenge in this way would be a dreadful 
evil were they able to endure the expense. Very few cases come be- 
fore the Sheriff-court of Selkirkshire that ought to come anywhere. 
Wretched wranglings about a few pounds, begun in spleen, and car- 
ried on from obstinacy, and at length from fear of the conclusion to 
the banquet of ill-humour, " D — n — n of expenses."^ I try to check 
it as well as I can ; " but so 'twill be when I am gone." 

December 12. — Dined at home, and spent the evening in writing 
— Anne and Lady Scott at the theatre to see Mathews ; a very clever 
man my friend Mathews ; but it is tiresome to be funny for a whole 
evening, so I was content and stupid at home. 

An odd optical delusion has amused me these two last nights. I 
have been of late, for the first time, condemned to the constant use 
of spectacles. Now, when I have laid them aside to step into a room 
dimly lighted, out of the strong light which I use for writing, I have 
seen, or seemed to see, through the rims of the same spectacles which 
I have left behind me. At first the impression was so lively that I 
put my hand to my eyes believing I had the actual spectacles on at 
the moment. But what I saw was only the eidolon or image of said 
useful servants. This fortifies some of Dr. Hibbert's positions about 
spectral appearances. 

December 13. — Letter from Lady Stafford — kind and friendly 
after the wont of Banzu-Mohr-ar-chat.* This is wrong spelled, I 
know. Her countenance is something for Sophia, whose company 
should be — as ladies are said to choose their liquor — little and good. 
To be acquainted with persons of mere ion is a nuisance and a 
scrape — to be known to persons of real fashion and fortune is in 
London a very great advantage. She is besides sure of the hereditary 
and constant friendship of the Buccleuch ladies, as well as those of 
Montagu and of the Harden family, of the Marchioness of Northamp- 
ton, Lady Melville, and others, also the Miss Ardens, upon whose kind 
offices I have some claim, and would count upon them whether such 



1 Burns's Address to the Unco Guid.—j. a. l. lish name of the neighbouring one, Caithness, 

2 Banamhorar-Chat,t.<3. the Great Lady of the we have another trace of the early settlement 
Cat, is the Gaelic title of the Countess- Duchess of the Clan Chattan, whose chiefs bear the cog- 
of Sutherland. The county of Sutherland it- nisance of a Wild Cat. The Duchess-Countess 
self is in that dialect Cattey, and in the Eng- died in 1838.— j. g. l. 



32 JOURNAL [Dec. 

claim existed or no. So she is well enough established among the 
Right-hand file, which is very necessary in London where second- 
rate fashion is like false jewels. 

Went to the yearly court of the Edinburgh Assurance Company, 
to which I am one of those graceful and useless appendages, called 
Directors Extraordinary — an extraordinary director I should prove 
had they elected me an ordinary one. There were there moneyers 
and great oneyers,^ men of metal — discounters and counters — sharp, 
grave, prudential faces — eyes weak with ciphering by lamplight — 
men who say to gold. Be thou paper, and to paper, Be thou turned 
into fine gold. Many a bustling, sharp-faced, keen-eyed writer too — 
some perhaps speculating with their clients' property. My reverend 
seigniors had expected a motion for printing their contract, which I, as 
a piece of light artillery, was brought down and got into battery to 
oppose. I should certainly have done this on the general ground, 
that while each partner could at any time obtain sight of the contract 
at a call on the directors or managers, it would be absurd to print it 
for the use of the Company — and that exposing it to the world at 
large was in all respects unnecessary, and might teach novel com- 
panies to avail themselves of our rules and calculations — if false, for 
the purpose of exposing our errors — if correct, for the purpose of 
improving their own schemes on our model. But my eloquence was 
not required, no one renewing the motion under question; so off I 
came, my ears still ringing with the sounds of thousands and tens of 
thousands, and my eyes dazzled with the golden gleam offered by so 
many capitalists. 

Walked home with the Solicitor^ — decidedly the most hopeful 
young man of his time ; high connection, great talent, spirited ambi- 
tion, a ready and prompt elocution, with a good voice and dignified 
manner, prompt and steady courage, vigilant and constant assiduity, 
popularity with the young men, and the good opinion of the old, will, 
if I mistake not, carry him as [high as] any man who has been since 
the days of old Hal Dundas,^ He is hot though, and rather hasty : 
this should be amended. They who would play at single-stick must 
bear with patience a rap over the knuckles. Dined quietly with Lady 
Scott and Anne. 

December 14. — Affairs very bad in the money-market in London. 
It must come here, and I have far too many engagements not to feel 
it. To end the matter at once, I intend to borrow £10,000, with 
which my son's marriage-contract allows rne to charge my estate. At 
Whitsunday and Martinmas X will have enough to pay up the incum- 
brance of £3000 due to old Moss's daughter, and £5000 to Misses 
Ferguson, in whole or part. This will enable us to dispense in a 

1 See 1 King Henry IV., Actii. Sc. 1 3 Henry Dundas, the first Viscount Melville, 

2 John Hope, Esq., was at this time Solici- first appeared in Parliament as Lord Advocate 
tor-General for Scotland, afterwards Lord Jus- of Scotland. — j. G. i.. 

tice-Clerk from isil until his death in 1858. 



1825.] JOURNAL 33 

great measure with bank assistance, and sleep in spite of thunder. 
I do not know whether it is this business which makes me a little 
bilious, or rather the want of exercise during the season of late, and 
change of the weather to too much heat. Thank God, my circum- 
stances are good, — upon a fair balance which I have made, certainly 
not less than £40,000 or nearly £50,000 above the world. But the 
sun and moon shall dance on the green ere carelessness, or hope of 
gain, or facility of getting cash, shall make me go too deep again, 
were it but for the disquiet of the thing. Dined : Lady Scott and 
Anne quietly. 

Decemher 15. — R. P. G[illies] came sicut mos est at five o'clock to 
make me confidant of the extremities of his distress. It is clear all 
he has to do is to make the best agreement he can with his creditors. 
I remember many years since the poor fellow told me he thought 
there was something interesting in having difficulties. Poor lad, he 
will have enough of them now. He talks about writing translations 
for the booksellers from the German to the amount of five or six 
hundred pounds, but this is like a man proposing to run a whole day 
at top speed. Yet, if he had good subjects, R. P. G. is one of the 
best translators I know, and something must be done for him cer- 
tainly, though, I fear, it will be necessary to go to the bottom of the 
ulcer ; palliatives won't do. He is terribly imprudent, yet a worthy 
and benevolent creature — a great bore withal. Dined alone with 
family. I am determined not to stand mine host to all Scotland and 
England as I have done. This shall be a saving, since it must be a 
borrowing, year. We heard from Sophia; they are got safe to 
town ; but as Johnnie had a little bag of meal with him, to make his 
porridge on the road, the whole inn-yard assembled to see the opera- 
tion. Junor, his maid, was of opinion that England was an " awfu' 
country to make parritch in." God bless the poor baby, and restore 
his perfect health ! 

December 16. — R. P. G. and his friend Robert Wilson* came — the 
former at five, as usual — the latter at three, as appointed. R[obert] 
W[ilson] frankly said that R. P. G.'s case was quite desperate, that he 
was insolvent, and that any attempt to save him at present would be 
just so much cash thrown away. God knows, at this moment I have 
none to throw away uselessly. For poor Gillies there was a melan- 
choly mixture of pathos and affectation in his statement, which really 
affected me ; while it told me that it would be useless to help him to 
money on such very empty plans. I endeavoured to persuade him 
to make a virtue of necessity, resign all to his creditors, and begin 
the world on a new leaf. I offered him Chiefs wood for a temporary 
retirement. Lady Scott thinks I was wrong, and nobody could less 
desire such a neighbour, all his affectations being caviare to me. But 
then the wife and children ! Went again to the Solicitor on a wrong 

1 Robert Syra Wilson, Esq., W.S., Secretary to the Royal Bank of Scotland j. g. l. 

3 



34 JOURNAL [Dec. 

night, being asked for to-morrow. Lady Scott undertakes to keep 
my engagements recorded in future. Sed quis custodiet ipsam cus- 
todeni ? 

December 17. — Dined with the Solicitor — Lord Chief-Baron' — Sir 
William Boothby, nephew of old Sir Brooke, the dandy poet, etc. An- 
noyed with anxious presentiments, which the night's post must dispel 
or confirm — all in London as bad as possible. 

Decemher 18. — Ballantyne called on me this morning. Venit ilia 
siqjrema dies. My extremity has come. Cadell has received letters 
from London which all but positively announce the failure of Hurst 
and Robinson, so that Constable & Co. must follow, and I must go 
with poor James Ballantyne for company. I suppose it will involve 
my all. But if they leave me £500, I can still make it £1000 or 
£1200 a year. And if they take my salaries of £1300 and £300, 
they cannot but give me something out of them. I have been rash 
in anticipating funds to buy land, but then I made from £5000 to 
£10,000 a year, and land was my temptation. I think nobody can 
lose a penny — that is one comfort. Men will think pride has had a 
fall. Let them indulge their own pride in thinking that my fall makes 
them higher, or seems so at least. I have the satisfaction to recollect 
that my prosperity has been of advantage to many, and that some at 
least will forgive my transient wealth on account of the innocence of 
my intentions, and my real wish to do good to the poor. Jhis news 
will make sad hearts at Darnick, and in the cottages of Abbotsford, 
which I do not nourish the least hope of preserving. It has been my 
Delilah, and so I have often termed it ; and now the recollection of 
the extensive woods I planted, and the walks I have formed, from 
which strangers must derive both the pleasure and profit, will ex- 
cite feelings likely to sober my gayest moments. I have half resolved 
never to see the place again. How could I tread my hall with such 
a diminished crest ? How live a poor indebted man where I was once 
the wealthy, the honoured ? My children are provided ; thank God 
for that. I was to have gone there on Saturday in joy and prosperity 
to receive my friends. My dogs will wait for me in vain. It is fool- 
ish — but the thoughts of parting from these dumb creatures have 
moved me more than any of the painful reflections I have put down. 
Poor things, I must get them kind masters ; there may be yet those 
who loving me may love my dog because it has been mine. I must 
end this, or I shall lose the tone of mind with which men should 
meet distress. 

I find ray dogs' feet on my knees. I hear them whining and 
seeking me everywhere — this is nonsense, but it is what they would 

1 The Right Hon. Sir Samuel Shepherd, who In England, where he died, aged 80, on the 30th 

had been at the head of the Court of Exchequer November, 1840. Before coming to Scotland, 

since 1819, was then living at 1(5 Coates Ores- Sir Samuel had been Solicitor-General in 1814, 

cent; he retired in 1830, and resided afterwards and Attorney-General in 1817. 



1825.] JOURNAL 35 

do could they know how things are. Poor Will Laidlaw ! poor Tom 
Purdie ! this will be news to wring your heart, and many a poor fel- 
low's besides to whom my prosperity was daily bread. 

Ballantyne behaves like himself, and sinks his own ruin in con- 
templating mine. I tried to enrich him indeed, and now all — all is 
gone. He will have the " Journal " still, that is a comfort, for sure 
they cannot find a better Editor. They — alas ! who will they be — the 
unbekannten Ohern who are to dispose of my all as they will? Some 
hard-eyed banker ; some of those men of millions whom I described. 
Cadell showed more kind and personal feeling to me than I thought 
he had possessed. He says there are some properties of works that 
will revert to me, the copy-money not being paid, but it cannot be any 
very great matter, I should think. 

Another person did not afford me all the sympathy I expected, 
perhaps because I seemed to need little support, yet that is not her 
nature, which is generous and kind. She thinks I have been impru- 
dent, trusting men so far. Perhaps so — but what could I do ? I 
must sell my books to some one, and these folks gave me the largest 
price ; if they had kept their ground I could have brought myself 
round fast enough by the plan of 14th December. I now view mat- 
ters at the very worst, and suppose that my all must go to supply the 
deficiencies of Constable. I fear it must be so. His connections 
with Hurst and Robinson have been so intimate that they must be 
largely involved. This is the worst of the concern ; our own is com- 
paratively plain sailing. 

Poor Gillies called yesterday to tell me he was in extremity. God 
knows I had every cause to have returned him the same answer. I 
must think his situation worse than mine, as through his incoherent, 
miserable tale, I could see that he had exhausted each access to cred- 
it, and yet fondly imagines that, bereft of all his accustomed indul- 
gences, he can work with a literary zeal unknown to his happier days. 
I hope he may labour enough to gain the mere support of his 
family. For myself, the magic wand of the Unknown is shivered 
in his grasp. He must henceforth be termed the Too-well-known. 
The feast of fancy is over with the feeling of independence. I 
can no longer have the delight of waking in the morning with 
bright ideas in my mind, haste to commit them to paper, and 
count them monthly, as the means of planting such groves, and 
purchasing such wastes; replacing my dreams of fiction by other 
prospective visions of walks by 

" Fountain heads, and pathless groves 
Places which pale passion loves," ^ 

This cannot be ; but I may work substantial husbandry, work his • 

1 See iVice Valour, by John Fletcher; Beaumont and Fletcher's Works. 



36 JOURNAL [Dec. 

tory, and such concerns. They will not be received i^^^^^^f-^'^F^^'^.'^ 

with the same enthusiasm ; at least I much doubt "Turn back to page 

the general knowledge that an author must write Se^'paVaccidemluy! 

for his bread, at least for improving his pittance, aud the partner of 

degrades him and his productions in the public ougS'^^nor to'^^waTte 

eye. He falls into the second-rate rank of estima- two leaves of paper." 
tion: 

" While the harness sore galls, and the spurs his sides goad, 
The high-mettled racer's a hack on the road." ^ 

It is a bitter thought ; but if tears start at it, let them flow. I am so 
much of this mind, that if any one would now offer to relieve all my 
embarrassments on condition I would continue the exertions which 
brought it there, dear as the place is to me, I hardly think I could 
undertake the labour on which I entered with my usual alacrity only 
this morning, though not without a boding feeling of my exertions 
proving useless. Yet to save Abbotsford I would attempt all that 
was possible. My heart clings to the place I have created. There is 
scarce a tree on it that does not owe its being to me, and the pain of 
leaving it is greater than I can tell. I have about £10,000 of Con- 
stable's, for which I am bound to give literary value, but if I am 
obliged to pay other debts for him, I will take leave to retain this 
sum at his credit. We shall have made some kittle questions of lit- 
erary property amongst us. Once more, " Patience, cousin, and shuf- 
fle the cards." 

I have endeavoured at times to give vent to thoughts naturally so 
painful, by writing these notices, partly to keep them at bay by 
busying myself with the history of the French Convention. I thank 
God I can do both with reasonable composure. I wonder how Anne 
will bear this affliction ? She is passionate, but stout-hearted and 
courageous in important matters, though irritable in trifles. I am 
glad Lockhart and his wife are gone. Why? I cannot tell; but 
I am pleased to be left to my own regrets without being melted by 
condolences, though of the most sincere and affectionate kind. 

Anne bears her misfortune gallantly and well, with a natural feel- 
ing, no doubt, of the rank and consideration she is about to lose. 
Lady Scott is incredulous, and persists in cherishing hope where 
there is no ground for hope. I wish it may not bring on the gloom 
of spirits which has given me such distress, if she were the active 
person she once was that would not be. Now I fear it more than 
what Constable or Cadell will tell me this evening, so that my mind 
is made up. 

Oddly enough, it happened. Mine honest friend Hector came in 
before dinner to ask a copy of my seal qi Arms, with a sly kindliness 
of intimation that it was for some agreeable purpose. 

1 From Charles Dibdin's song, TJie Eacehorse. 



1825.J JOURNAL 37 

n 

Half-past Eight. — I closed this book under the consciousness of 
impending ruin, I open it an hour after, thanks be to God, with the 
strong hope that matters may be got over safely and honourably, in 
a mercantile sense. Cadell came at eight to communicate a letter 
from Hurst and Robinson, intimating they had stood the storm, and 
though clamorous for assistance from Scotland, saying they had pre- 
pared their strongholds without need of the banks. This is all so 
far well, but I will not borrow any money on ray estate till I see 
. , , things reasonably safe. Stocks have risen from 

This was a mistake. ^& ^ -^ c ^^ ^ n ^ • xi 

to , a strong proof that conndence is restored. 

But I will yield to no delusive hopes, and fall back fall edge, my res- 
olutions hold. 

I shall always think the better of Cadell for this, not merely be- 
cause his feet are beautiful on the mountains who brings good 
tidings, but because he showed feeling — deep feeling, poor fellow — 
he who I thought had no more than his numeration table, and who, 
if he had had his whole counting-house full of sensibility, had yet 
his wife and children to bestow it upon — 1 will not forget this if I 
get through. I love the virtues of rough and round men ; the others 
are apt to escape in salt-rheum, sal-volatile, and a white pocket-hand- 
kerchief. An odd thought strikes me : when I die will the Journal 
of these days be taken out of the ebony cabinet at Abbotsford, and 
read as the transient pout of a man worth £60,000, with wonder that 
the well-seeming Baronet should ever have experienced such a hitch ? 
Or will it be found in some obscure lodging-house, where the decayed 
son of chivalry has hung up his scutcheon for some 20s. a week, and 
where one or two old friends will look grave and whisper to each 
other, " Poor gentleman," " A well-meaning man," " Nobody's ene- 
my but his own," " Thought his parts could never wear out," " Fam- 
ily poorly left," " Pity he took that foolish title " ? Who can answer 
this question ? 

What a life mine has been ! — half educated, almost wholly neg- 
lected or left to myself, stuffing my head with most nonsensical trash, 
and undervalued in society for a time by most of my companions, 
getting forward and held a bold and clever fellow, contrary to the 
opinion of all who thought me a mere dreamer, broken-hearted for 
two years, my heart handsomely pieced again, but the crack will re- 
main to my dying day. Rich and poor four or five times, once on 
the verge of ruin, yet opened new sources of wealth almost overflow- 
ing. Now taken in my pitch of pride, and nearly winged (unless the 
good news hold), because London chooses to be in an uproar, and 
in the tumult of bulls and bears, a poor inoffensive lion like myself is 
pushed to the wall. And what is to be the end of it ? God knows. 
And so ends the catechism. 

December 19. — Ballantyne here before breakfast. He looks on 
Cadell's last night's news with more confidence than I do ; but I 



38 JOURNAL [Dec. 

must go to work be my thoughts sober or lively. Constable came 
in and sat an hour. The old gentleman is firm as a rock, and scorns 
the idea of Hurst and Robinson's stopping. He talks of going up 
to London next week and making sales of our interest in W[oodstock] 
and Boney^ which would put a hedge round his finances. He is a 
very clever fellow, and will, I think, bear us through. 

Dined at Lord Chief-Baron's.^ Lord Justice-Clerk; Lord Presi- 
dent ; ^ Captain Scarlett,^ a gentlemanlike young man, the son of the 
great Counsel,* and a friend of my son Walter ; Lady Charlotte 
Hope, and other woman-kind ; R. Dundas of Arniston, and his pleas- 
ant and good-humoured little wife, w^hose quick intelligent look pleases 
me more, though her face be plain, than a hundred mechanical beau- 
ties. 

December 20. — I like Ch. Ba. Shepherd very much — as much, I 
think, as any man I have learned to know of late years. There is a 
neatness and precision, a closeness and truth, in the tone of his con- 
versation, which shows w^hat a lawyer he must have been. Perfect 
good-humour and suavity of manner, with a little warmth of temper 
on suitable occasions. His great deafness alone prevented him from 
being Lord Chief-Justice. 1 never saw a man so patient under such 
a malady. He loves society, and converses excellently ; yet is often 
obliged, in a mixed company particularly, to lay aside his trumpet, 
retire into himself, and withdraw from the talk. He does this with 
an expression of patience on his countenance w^hich touches one 
much. He has occasion for patience otherwise, I should think, for 
Lady S. is fine and fidgety, and too anxious to have everything pointe 
devise. 

Constable's licence for the Dedication is come, which will make 
him happy. ^ 

Dined with James Ballantyne, and met my old friend Mathews, 
the comedian, with his son, now grown up a clever, rather forward 
lad, who makes songs in the style of James Smith or Colman, and 
sings them wdth spirit ; rather lengthy though. 

December 21. — There have been odd associations attending my 
two last meetings with Mathews. The last time I saw liim, before 
yesterday evening, he dined with me in company with poor Sir Al- 
exander Boswell, who was killed within two or three months.® I 

1 Sir Samuel Shepherd. within the attainment of every class of read- 

2 The Right. Hon-. Charles Hope, who held ers, is most humbly inscribed by His Majesty's 
the ofiQce of Lord President of the Court of dutiful and devoted subject — Archibald Con- 
Session for thirty years; he died in 1851 aged stable."— j. g. l. 

eighty-nine. ® Probably a slip of the pen for " weeks," as 

3 Afterwards Sir James Yorke Scarlett, G.C.B. irathews was in London in March (1822), and 
* Sir James Scarlett, Orst Lord Abinger. we know that he dined with Scott in Castle 
s The dedication of Constable's Miscellany Street on the 10th of Februar}'-. Memoirs^ vol. 

was penned by Sir Walter — "To His Majesty iii. p. 262. Mr. Lockhartsa}'S,"withinaweek," 
King George iv., the most generous Patron and at p. 33 vol. vii. gives an account of a din- 
even of the most humble attempts towards the ner party. Writing so many years after the 
advantage of his subjects, this Miscdlany, de- event he may have mistakenthe date. James 
signed to extend useful knowledge and elegant Boswell died in London 2ith February 1822; 
literature, by placing works of standard merit his brother, Sir Alexander, was at the funeral, 



1825.] JOURNAL 39 

never saw Sir Alexander more.^ The time before was in 1816, when 
John Scott of Gala and I were returning from France, and passed 
through London, when we brought Mathews down as far as Leaming- 
ton. Poor Byron lunched, or rather made an early dinner, with us 
at Long's, and a most brilliant day we had of it. I never saw Byron 
so full of fun, frolic, wit, and whim : he was as playful as a kitten. 
Well, I never saw him again.^ So this man of mirth, with his merry 
meetings, has brought me no luck. I like better that he should throw 
in his talent of mimicry and bumour into the present current tone of 
the company, than that he should be required to give this, that, and 
t'other hit selected from his public recitations. They are good cer- 
tainly — excellent ; but then you must laugh, and that is always severe 
to me. When I do laugh in sincerity, the joke must be or seem un- 
premeditated, I could not help thinking, in the midst of the glee, 
what gloom had lately been over the minds of three of the company, 
Cadell, J. B., and the Journalist. What a strange scene if the surge 
of conversation could suddenly ebb like the tide, and [show] us the 
state of people's real minds ! Savary ^ might have been gay in such 
a party with all his forgeries in his heart. 

"No eyes the rocks discover 
Which lurk beneath the deep."* 

Life could not be endured were it seen in reality. 

Things are mending in town, and H[urst] and R[obinson] write 
with confidence, and are, it would seem, strongly supported by wealthy 
friends. Cadell and Constable are confident of their making their 
way through the storm, and the impression of their stability is gen- 
eral in London. I hear the same from Lockhart. Indeed, I now be- 
lieve that they wrote gloomy letters to Constable, chiefly to get as 
much money out of them as they possibly could. But they had well- 
nigh overdone it. This being Teind Wednesday must be a day of 
leisure and labour. Sophia has got a house, 25 Pall Mall. Dined 
at home with Lady Scott and Anne. 

and did not return to Edinburgh till Saturday of their father's eccentricity, but joined to 
23d March. James Stuart of Dunearn chal- greater talent. Sir Walter took great pleasure 
lenged him on Monday; they fought on Tues- in their society, but James being resident in 
day, and Boswell died on the following day, London, the opportunity of enjoying his corn- 
March 27. Mr. Lockhart says that "several pany had of late been rare. Upon the present 
circumstances of Sir Alexander's death are ex- occasion he had dined with me in the greatest 
actly reproduced in the duel scene in St. Ro- health and spirits the evening before his de- 
nan's WelV parture for London, and in a week we had ac- 

1 In a letter to Skene written late in 1821. counts of his having been seized by a sudden 
Scott, in expressing his regret at not being able illness which carried him off. In a few weeks 
to meet Boswell, adds, "I hope J. Boz comes more his brotber, Sir Alexander, was killed in 
to make some stay, but I shall scarce forgive a duel occasioned by a foolish political 1am- 
him for not coming at the fine season." The poon which he had written, and in a thought- 
brothers Boswell had been Mr. Skene's school- less manner suffered to find its way to a news- 
fellows and intimate friends; and he had lived paper. "_Re/ni/u'scence5. 
much with them both in England and Scot- 2 See Life, vol. v. p. 87. 
land. 3 Henry Savary, son of a banker in Bristol, 

Mr. Skene says, in a note to Letter 28, that had been tried for forgery a few months be- 

"they were men of remarkable talents, and fore. 

James of great learning, both evincing a dash * From What d'ye call it? by John Gay, 



40 JOURNAL [Dec. 

December 22. — I wrote six of my close pages yesterday, which is 
about twenty-four pages in print. What is more, I think it comes 
off twangingly. The story is so very interesting in itself, that there 
is no fear of the book answering.^ SuperJEicial it must be, but I do 
not disown the charge. Better a superficial book, which brings well 
and strikingly together the known and acknowledged facts, than a 
dull boring narrative, pausing to see further into a mill-stone at every 
moment than the nature of the mill-stone admits. Nothing is so tire- 
some as walking through some beautiful scene with a minute philoso- 
pher', a botanist, or pebble-gatherer, who is eternally calling your atten- 
tion from the grand features of the natural scenery to look at grasses 
and chucky-stones. Yet, in their way, they give useful information ; 
and so does the minute historian. Gad, I think that will look well in the 
preface. My bile is quite gone. I really believe it arose from mere 
anxiety. What a wonderful connection between the mind and body ! 

The air of " Bonnie Dundee " running in my head to-day, I 
[wrote] a few verses to it before dinner, taking the key-note from 
the story of Clavers leaving the Scottish Convention of Estates in 
1688-9.^ I wonder if they are good. Ah! poor Will Erskine!^ 
thou couldst and wouldst have told me. T must consult J. B., who 
is as honest as was W. E. But then, though he has good taste too, 
there is a little of Big Bow-wow about it. Can't say what made me 
take a frisk so uncommon of late years, as to write verses of free- 
will. I suppose the same impulse which makes birds sing when the 
storm seems blown over. 

Dined at Lord Minto's. There were Lord and Lady Ruthven, 
AVill Clerk, and Thomas Thomson, — a right choice party. There was 
also my very old friend Mrs. Brydone, the relict of the traveller,* and 
daughter of Principal Robertson, and really worthy of such a con- 
nection — Lady Minto, who is also peculiarly agreeable — and her sis- 
ter, Mrs. Admiral Adam, in the evening. 

December 23. — The present Lord Minto is a very agreeable, well- 
informed, and sensible man, but he possesses neither the high breed- 
ing, ease of manner, nor eloquence of his father, the first Earl. That 
Sir Gilbert was indeed a man among a thousand. I knew him very 
intimately in the beginning of the century, and, which was very agree- 
able, was much at his house on very easy terms. He loved the Muses, 
and worshipped them in secret, and used to read some of his poetry, 
which was but middling. 

1 Life of Napoleon. — j. g. l. dential of all his Edinburgh associates." In 1796 

2 See Scott's Poetical Works, vol. xii. pp. he arranged with the publishers for Scott's ear- 
194-97. — J. G. L. liest literary venture, a thin 4to of some 48 

3 William Erskine of Kinnedder was Scott's pages entitled TOeC/tase, etc. See Z?ye through- 
senior by two years at the bar, having passed out, more particularly vol. i. pp. 279-80, 333-4, 
Advocate in 1790. He became Sheriff of Ork- 338-9; ii. pp. 103-4; iv. pp. 12, 166, 369; v. p. 
ney in 1809, and took his seat on the Bench as 174; vi. p. 393; vii. pp. 1, 5, 6, 70-74. See Ap- 
Lord Kinnedder, 29 January. 1822; he died on pendix for Mr. Skene's account of the destruo- 
the 14th of August following. Scott and he tion of the letters from Scott to Erskine. 

met first in 1792. and, as is well known, he af- 4 Patrick Brydone, author of ^ Tour Through 

terwards "became the nearest and most coufi- Sicily and Malta. 2 vols. Svo, 1773. 



1825.] JOURNAL 41 

Tom Campbell lived at Minto, but it was in a state of dependence 
which he brooked very ill. He was kindly treated, but would not 
see it in the right view, and suspected slights, and so on, where no 
such thing was meant. There was a turn of Savage about Tom, 
though without his blackguardism — a kind of waywardness of mind 
and irritability that must have made a man of his genius truly un- 
happy. Lord Minto, with the mildest manners, was very tenacious 
of his opinions, although he changed them twice in the crisis of poli- 
tics. He was the early friend of Fox, and made a figure towards the 
end of the American war, or during the struggles betwixt Fox and 
Pitt. Then came the Revolution, and he joined the Anti - Gallican 
party so keenly, that he declared against Addington's peace Avith 
France, and was for a time, I believe, a Wyndhamite. He was rec- 
onciled to the Whigs on the Fox and Grenville coalition ; but I have 
heard that Fox, contrary to his wont, retained such personal feelings 
as made him object to Sir Gilbert Elliot's having a seat in the Cabi- 
net ; so he was sent as Governor-General to India^ — a better thing, I 
take it, for his fortune. He died shortly after his return,^ at Hatfield 
or Barnet, on his way down to his native country. He was a most 
pleasing and amiable man. I was very sorry for his death, though I 
do not know how we should have met, for the contested election in 
1805 [in Roxburghshire] had placed some coldness betwixt the pres- 
ent Lord and me. I was certainly anxious for Sir Alexander Don, 
both as friend of my most kind friend Charles, Duke of Buccleuch, 
and on political accounts ; and those thwartings are what men in pub- 
lic life do not like to endure. After a cessation of friendship for 
some years, we have come about again. We never had the slightest 
personal dispute or disagreement. But politics are the blowpipe be- 
neath whose infiuence the best cemented friendships too often dis- 
sever ; and ours, ofter all, was only a very familiar acquaintance. 

It is very odd that the common people at Minto and the neigh- 
bourhood will not believe to this hour that the first Earl is dead. 
They think he had done something in India which he could not an- 
swer for — that the house was rebuilt on a scale unusually large to 
give him a suite of secret apartments, and that he often walks about 
the woods and crags of Minto at night, with a white nightcap, and 
long white beard. The circumstance of his having died on the road 
down to Scotland is the sole foundation of this absurd legend, which 
shows how willing the vulgar are to gull themselves when they can 
find no one else to take the trouble. I have seen people who could 
read, write, and cipher, shrug their shoulders and look mysterious 
when this subject was mentioned. One very absurd addition was 
made on occasion of a great ball at Minto House, which it was said 
was given to draw all people away from the grounds, that the con- 
cealed Earl might have leisure for his exercise. This was on the 

1 Gilbert, Earl of Minto, died in June, 1814.— j. G. l. 



42 JOURNAL [Dec. 

principle in the German play/ where, to hide their conspiracy, the 
associates join in a chorus song. 

We dined at home ; Mr. Davidoff and his tutor kept an engage- 
ment with us to dinner notwithstanding the death of the Emperor 
Alexander. They went to the play with the womankind ; I stayed 
at home to write. 

December 24. — Wrote Walter and Jane, and gave the former an 
account of how things had been in the money market, and the loan 
of £10,000. Constable has a scheme of publishing the w^orks of the 
Author of W[averley] in a superior style, at £l. Is. volume. He says 
he will answer for making £20,000 of this, and liberally offered me 
any share of the profit. 1 have no great claim to any, as I have only 
to contribute the notes, which are light work ; yet a few thousands 
coming in will be a good thing — besides the P[rinting] OflSce. Con- 
stable, though valetudinary, and cross with his partner, is certainly as 
good a pilot in these rough seas as ever man put faith in. His rally 
has put me in mind of the old song : — 

" The tailor raise and shook his duds, 
He gav'd the Bills flee aff in cluds, 
And they that stayed gat fearfu' thuds — 
The tailor proved a man, 0."- 

We are for Abbotsford to-day, with a light heart. 

Abbotsford, December 25. — Arrived here last night at seven. Our 
halls are silent compared to last year, but let us be thankful — wdien 
we think how near the chance appeared but a week since that these 
halls would have been ours no longer. Barbarus has segetes ? JVul- 
liim numem abest, si sit prudentia. There shall be no lack of wisdom. 
But come — ilfaut cultiver notre jardin.^ Let us see : I w^ill write out 
the " Bonnets of Bonnie Dundee " ; I will sketch a preface to La 
Rochejacquelin for ConstabWs Miscellany, and try about a specimen 
of notes for the W[averley Novels]. Together with letters and by-, 
business, it will be a good day's w^ork. 

"I make a vow, 
And keep it true." 

I will accept no invitation for dinner, save one to Newton-Don, and 
Mertoun to-morrow, instead of Christmas Day. On this day of gen- 
eral derotion I have a particular call for gratitude ! ! 

My God ! what poor creatures we are ! After all my fair pro- 
posals yesterday, I was seized with a most violent pain in the right 
kidney and parts adjacent, which, joined to deadly sickness which 
it brought on, forced me instantly to go to bed and send for Clark- 

1 See Canning's German Play, in the Anti- 2 See Johnson's Musical Museum, No. 490, 

Jacobin.— J. Q. L. slightly altered. 

3 See Candide.—j. g. l. 



1825.] JOURNAL 4S 

son.^ He came and inquired, pronouncing the complaint to be g:rav- 
el augmented by bile. I was in great agony till about two o'clock, 
but awoke with the pain gone. I got up, had a fire in my dressmg- 
closet, and had Dalgleish to shave me — two trifles, which I only men- 
tion, because they are contrary to my hardy and independent personal 
habits. But although a man cannot be a hero to his valet, his valet 
in sickness becomes of great use to him. I cannot expect that this 
first will be the last visit of this cruel complaint ; but shall we re- 
ceive good at the hand of God, and not receive evil ? 

December 27. — Slept twelve hours at a stretch, being much ex- 
hausted. Totally without pain to-day, but uncomfortable from the 
effects of calomel, which, with me at least, is like the assistance of an 
auxiliary army, just one degree more tolerable than the enemy it 
chases away. Calomel contemplations are not worth recording. I 
wrote an introduction and a few notes to the Memoirs of Madame La 
Rochejacquelin,^ being all that I was equal to. 

Sir Adam Ferguson came over and tried to marry my verses to 
the tune of " Bonnie Dundee." They seem well adapted to each 
other. Dined with Lady Scott and Anne. 

Worked at Pepys in the evening, with the purpose of review for 
Lockhart.^ Notwithstanding the depressing. effects of the calomel, I 
feel the pleasure of being alone and uninterrupted. Few men, lead- 
ing a quiet life, and without any strong or highly varied change of 
circumstances, have seen more variety of society than I — few have 
enjoyed it more, or been bored, as it is called, less by the company of 
tiresome people. I have rarely, if ever, found any one, out of whom 
I could not extract amusement or edification ; and were I obliged to 
account for hints afforded on such occasions, I should make an ample 
deduction from my inventive powers. Still, however, from the earli- 
est time I can remember, I preferred the pleasure of being alone to 
waiting for visitors, and have often taken a bannock and a bit of 
cheese to the wood or hill, to avoid dining with company. As I grew 
from boyhood to manhood I saw this would not do : and that to gain 
a place in men's esteem I must mix and bustle with them. Pride 
and an excitation of spirits supplied the real pleasure which others 
seem to feel in society, and certainly upon many occasions it was 
real. Still, if the question was, eternal company, without the power 
of retiring within yourself, or solitary confinement for life, I should 
say, " Turnkey, lock the cell !" My life, though not without its fits 
of waking and strong exertion, has been a sort of dream, spent in 

" Chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy." * 
I have worn a wishing-cap, the power of which has been to divert 

1 James Clarkson, Esq., surgeon, Melrose, son 3 See the Quarterly Revieio for January, 1826 

to Scott's old friend. Dr. Clarkson of Selkirk. —or '&coiVs Miscellaneous Prose Works.— 3. g. h. 

—J G. L. 

a See ConstalWs Miscellany, vol. v.— j. g. l. * As You Like It, Act iv, Sc. 3— J G. L. 



44 JOURNAL pEC. 

present griefs by a toucli of the wand of imagination, and gild over 
the future prospect by prospects more fair than can ever be realised. 
Somewhere it is said that this castle-building — this wielding of the 
aerial trowel — is fatal to exertions in actual life. I cannot tell; I 
have not found it so. I cannot, indeed, say like Madame Genlis, that 
in the imaginary scenes in which I have acted a part I ever prepared 
myself for anything which actually befell me ; but I have certainly 
fashioned out much that made the present hour pass pleasantly 
away, and much that has enabled me to contribute to the amuse- 
ment of the public. Since I was five years old I cannot remember 
the time when I had not some ideal part to play for my own solitary 
amusement. 

December 28. — Somehow I think the attack on Christmas Day 
has been of a critical kind, and, having gone o3 so well, may be pro- 
ductive rather of health than continued indisposition. If one is to 
get a renewal of health in his fifty-fourth year, he must look to pay 
fine for it. Last night George Thomson^ came to see how I was, 
poor fellow. He has talent, is well informed, and has an excellent 
heart ; but there is an eccentricity about him that defies description. 
I wish to God I saw him provided in a country kirk. That, with a 
rational wife — that is, if there is such a thing to be gotten for him, — 
would, I think, bring him to a steady temper. At present he is be- 
tween the tyning and the winning. If I could get him to set to any 
hard study, he would do something clever. 

How to make a critic. — A sly rogue, sheltering himself under the 
generic name of Mr. Campbell, requested of me, through the penny- 
post, the loan of £50 for two years, having an impulse, as he said, to 
make this demand. As I felt no corresponding impulse, I begged to 
decline a demand which might have been as reasonably made by any 
Campbell on earth ; and another impulse has determined the man of 
fifty pounds to send me anonymous abuse of my works and temper 
and selfish disposition. The severity of the joke lies in 14d. for post- 
age, to avoid which his next epistle shall go back to the clerks of the 
Post Office, as not for S. W. S.- How the severe rogue would be dis- 
appointed, if he knew I never looked at more than the first and last 
lines of his satirical effusion I 

When I first saw that a literary profession was to be my fate, I 
endeavoured by all efforts of stoicism to divest mj^elf of that irrita- 
ble degree of sensibility — or, to speak plainly, of vanity — which 
makes the poetical race miserable and ridiculous. The anxiety of a 
poet for praise and for compliments I have always endeavoured [to 
keep down]. 

December 29. — Base feelings this same calomel gives one — mean, 
poor, and abject — a wretch, as Will Rose says : — 

1 Formerly tutor at Abbotsford. Mr. Lock- Thomson— the hnppy 'Dominie Thomson' of 
hart says; ' I observe, as the sheet is passing the happy days of Abbotsford: he died at Ed- 
through the press, the death of the Rev George inburgh on the 8th of January, 1838. " 



1825.] JOURNAL 45 

"Fie, fie, on silly coward man, 
That he should be the slave o't." * 

Then it makes one " wofully dogged and snappish," as Dr. Rutty, the 
Quaker, says in his Gurnal^ 

Sent Lockhart four pages on Sheridan's plays ; not very good, I 
think, but the demand came sudden. Must go to W — k !' yet am 
vexed by that humour of contradiction which makes me incline to do 
anything else in preference. Commenced preface for new edition of 
my Novels. The city of Cork send my freedom in a silver box. I 
thought I was out of their grace for going to see Blarney rather than 
the Cove, for which I was attacked and defended in the papers when 
in Ireland. I am sure they are so civil that I would have gone wher- 
ever they wished me to go if I had had any one to have told me what 
I ought to be most inquisitive about. 

"For if I should as lion come in strife 
Into such a place, 't were pity of my life." ^ 

December 30. — Spent at home and in labour — with the weight of 
unpleasant news from Edinburgh. J. B. is like to be pinched next 
week unless the loan can be brought forward. I must and have en- 
deavoured to supply him. At present the result of my attempts is 
uncertain. I am even more anxious about C[onstable] & Co., unless 
they can get assistance from their London friends to whom they gave 
much. All is in God's hands. The worst can only be what I have 
before anticipated. But I must, I think, renounce the cigars. They 
brought back (using two this evening) the irritation of which I had 
no feelings while abstaining from them. Dined alone with Gordon,^ 
Lady S., and Anne. James Curie, Melrose, has handsomely lent me 
£600 ; he has done kindly. I have served him before and will again 
if in my power. 

December 31. — Took a good sharp walk the first time since my 
illness, and found myself the better in health and spirits. Being 
Hogmanay, there dined with us Colonel Russell and his sisters, Sir 
Adam Ferguson and Lady, Colonel Ferguson, with Mary and Mar- 
garet ; an auld-warld party, who made themselves happy in the auld 
fashion. I felt so tired about eleven that I was forced to steal to bed. 



1 Burns's " poortith cauld and restless er doctor's minute confessions. See the Life 
love." of Johnson's sub anno 1777. — J. G. l. 

2 John Rutty, M. D^ , a physician of some emi- 3 TTooc^sfocfc-contracted for in 1823. 
nence mDnblm, died m 1775, and his executors . ^ „.^ ,x- r , ^ a c .. 
published his very curious and absurd "Spirit- ^ Midsummer Night's Dream, Act iii. Sc. 1. 
ual Diary and Soliloquies. " Boswell describes ^ (jeorge Huntly Gordon, amanuensis to 
Johnson as being much amused with the Quak- Scott. 



1826.-JANUART 

January 1. — A year has passed — another has commenced. These 
solemn divisions of time influence our feelings as they recur. Yet 
there is nothing in it ; for every day in the year closes a twelve- 
month as well as the 31st December. The latter is only the solemn 
pause, as when a guide, showing a wild and mountainous road, calls 
on a party to pause and look back at the scenes which they have 
just passed. To me this new year opens sadly. There are these 
troublesome pecuniary diflSculties, which however, I think, this week 
should end. There is the absence of all my children, Anne excepted, 
from our little family festival. There is, besides, that ugly report of 
the loth Hussars going to India. Walter, I suppose, will have some 
step in view, and will go, and I fear Jane will not dissuade him. 

A hard, frosty day — cold, but dry and pleasant under foot. 
Walked into the plantations with Anne and Anne Russell. A 
thought strikes me, alluding to this period of the year. People say 
that the whole human frame in all its parts and divisions is gradually 
in the act of decaying and renewing. What a curious timepiece it 
would be that could indicate to us the moment this gradual and in- 
sensible change had so completely taken place that no atom was left 
of the original person who had existed at a certain period, but there 
existed in his stead another person having the same limbs, thews, 
and sinews, the same face and lineaments, the same consciousness — 
a new ship built on an old plank — a pair of transmigrated stockings, 
like those of Sir John Cutler,^ all green silk, without one thread of 
the original black silk left ! Singular — to be at once another and 
the same. 

January 2. — Weather clearing up in Edinburgh once more, and 
all will, I believe, do well. I am pressed to get on with WoodstocTc^ 
and must try. I wish I could open a good vein of interest which 
would breathe freely. I must take my old way, and write myself 
into good-humour with my task. It is only when I dally with what I 
am about, look back, and aside, instead of keeping my eyes straight 
forward, that I feel these cold sinkings of the heart. All men I sup- 
pose do, less or more. They are like the sensation of a sailor when 
the ship is cleared for action, and all are at their places — gloomy 



1 The parsimonious yet liberal London mer- Brown's Lectures on the Philosophy of the Hu- 
chant, whose miserly habits gave Arbuthnot man J/ind, vol. i. p. 244, and Martin Scriblerus, 
the materials of the story. See Professor cap. xii., Pope, vol. iv. p. 54, Edin. 1776. 



Jan. 1826.] JOURNAL 47 

enough ; but the first broadside puts all to rights. Dined at Huntly 
Burn with the Fergusons en masse. 

January 3. — Promises a fair day, and I think the progress of my 
labours will afford me a little exercise, which I greatly need to help off 
the calomel feeling. Walked with Colonel Russell from eleven till 
two — the first good day's exercise I have had since coming here. AVe 
went through all the Terrace, the Roman Planting,' over by the Stiel 
and Haxellcleuch, and so by the Rhymer's Glen to Chiefswood,' 
which gave my heart a twinge, so disconsolate it seemed. Yet all is 
for the best. Called at Huntly Burn, and shook hands with Sir Adam 
and his Lady just going off. When I returned, signed the bond for 
£10,000, which will disencumber me of all pressing claims ;^ when I 

get forward W k and Nap. there will be £12,000 and upwards, 

and I hope to add £3000 against this time next year, or the devil 
must hold the dice. J. B. writes me seriously on the carelessness of 
my style. I do not think I am more careless than usual ; but I dare 
say he is right. I will be more cautious. 

January 4. — Despatched the deed yesterday executed. Mr. and ■ 
Mrs. Skene, my excellent friends, came to us from Edinburgh. Skene, 
distinguished for his attainments as a draughtsman, and for his 
highly gentlemanlike feelings and character, is Laird of Rubislaw, 
near Aberdeen. Having had an elder brother, his education was 
somewhat neglected in early life, against which disadvantage he made 
a most gallant [fight], exerting himself much to obtain those accom- 
plishments which he has since possessed. Admirable in all exercises, 
there entered a good deal of the cavalier into his early character. Of 
late he has given himself much to the study of antiquities. His wife, 
a most excellent person, was tenderly fond of Sophia. They bring 
so much old-fashioned kindness and good-humour with them, besides 
the recollections of other times, that they must be always welcome 
guests. Letter from Mr. Scrope,* announcing a visit. 

January 5. — Got the desired accommodation with Coutts, which 
will put J. B. quite straight, but am a little anxious still about Con- 
stable. He has immense stock, to be sure, and most valuable, but he 
may have sacrifices to make to convert a large portion of it into 
ready money. The accounts from London are most disastrous. 
Many wealthy persons totally ruined, and many, many more have 
been obliged to purchase their safety at a price they will feel all 
their lives. I do not hear things are so bad in Edinburgh; and J. 
B.'s business has been transacted by the banks with liberality. 

1 This plantation now covers the remains of of the struggling firms. — j. g. t. See Dec. 14, 
an old Roman road from the Great Camp on 1825. 

the Eildon Hills to the ford below Scott's house. * William Scrope, author of Days of Deer 

— J- G- L. Stalking, roy. 8vo, 1839 ; and Days and Nights 

2 The residence for several years of Ur. and of Salmon Fishing, roy. 8vo, 1843; died in his 
Mrs. Lockhart. 81st year in 1852. Mr. Lockhart says of this 

^ When settling his estate on his eldest son, enthusiastic sportsman that at this time "he 

Sir Walter had retained the power of burdening had a lease of Lord Somerville's pavilion oppo- 

it with £10,000 for behoof of his younger chil- site Melrose, and lived on terms of affectionatQ 

dren; he now raised the sum for the assistance intimacy with Sir Walter Scott, " 



48 JOURNAL [Jan. 

Colonel Russell told us last night tliat the last of the Moguls, a 
descendant of Kubla-Khan, though having no more power than his 
effigies at the back of a set of playing-cards, refused to meet Lord 
Hastings, because the Governor-Greneral would not agree to remain 
standing in his presence. Pretty well for the blood of Timur in these 
degenerate days ! 

Much alarmed. I had walked till twelve with Skene and Col. Rus- 
sell, and then sat down to my work. To my horror and surprise 1 
could neither write nor spell, but put down one word for another, 
and wrote nonsense. I was much overpowered at the same time, 
and could not conceive the reason. I fell asleep, however, in my 
chair, and slept for two hours. On waking my head was clearer, and 
I began to recollect that last night I had taken the anodyne left for 
the purpose by Clarkson, and being disturbed in the course of the 
night, I had not slept it off. 

Obliged to give up writing to-day — read Pepys instead. The 
Scotts of Harden were to have dined, but sent an apology, — storm 
coming on. Russells left us this morning to go to Haining, 

January 6. — This seems to be a feeding storm, coming on by little 
and little. Wrought all day and dined quiet. My disorder is wearing 
off, and the quiet society of the Skenes suits with my present humour. 
I really thought I was in for some very bad illness. Curious expression 
of an Indian-born boy just come from Bengal, a son of my cousin 
George Swinton. The child saw a hare run across the fields, and ex- 
claimed, " See, there is a little tiger !" 

January 7, Sunday. — Knight, a young artist, son of the perform- 
er, came to paint my picture at the request of Terry. This is very far 
from agreeable, as I submitted to this distressing state of constraint 
last year to Newton, at request of Lockhart ; to Leslie, at request 
of my American friend ;^ to Wilkie, for his picture of the King's ar- 
rival at Holyrood House ; and some one besides. I am as tired of 
the operation as old Maida, who had been so often sketched that he 
got up and went away with signs of loathing whenever he saw an art- 
ist unfurl his paper and handle his brushes. But this young man is 
civil and modest ; and I have agreed he shall sit in the room while I 
work, and take the best likeness he can, without compelling me into 
fixed attitudes or the yawning fatigues of an actual sitting. I think, 
if he has talent, he may do more my way than in the customary 
mode ; at least I can't have the hang-dog look which the unfortunate 
Theseus has who is doomed to sit for what seems an eternity.'* 

1 Mr. George Ticknor of Boston. He saw Leslie himself thought Chantrey's was the 

much of Scott and his family in the spring of best of all the portraits. "The gentle turn of 

1819 in Edinburgh and at Abbotsford; and was the head, inclined a little forward and down, 

again in Scotland in 1838. Both visits are well and the lurking humour in the eye and about 

described in his journals, published in Boston the mouth, are Scott's own." — Autobiographi- 

in 1876. cal Recollections of Leslie, edited by Taylor, 

Mrs. Lockhart was of opinion that Leslie's vol. i. p. 118. 

portrait of her father was the best extant, 2 sedet, eternumque sedebit 

"and nothing equals it except Chantrey's Infelix Theseus .. . 

bust. "—Ticknor '3 Life^ vol. i. p. 107. Virgil.— j. g. l. 



1826.] JOURNAL 49 

I wrought till two o'clock — indeed till I was almost nervous with 
correcting and scribbling. I then walked, or rather was dragged, 
through the snow by Tom Purdie, while Skene accompanied. AVhat 
a blessing there is in a man like Tom, whom no familiarity can spoil, 
whom you may scold and praise and joke with, knowing the quality 
of the man is unalterable in his love and reverence to his master. Use 
an ordinary servant in the same way and he will be your master in a 
month. We should thank God for the snow as well as summer flow- 
ers. This brushing exercise has put all my nerves into tone again, 
which were really jarred with fatigue until my very backbone seemed 
breaking. This comes of trying to do too much. J. B.'s news are as 
good as possible. — Prudence, prudfence, and all will do excellently. 

January 8. — Frost and snow still. Write to excuse myself from 
attending the funeral of my aunt, Mrs. Curie, which takes place to- 
morrow at Kelso. She was a woman of the old Sandy-Knowe breed, 
with the strong sense, high principle, and indifferent temper which be- 
longed to my father's family. Slie lived with great credit on a mod- 
erate income, and, I believe, gave away a great deal of it.^ 

January 9. — Mathews the comedian and his son came to spend a 
day at Abbotsford. The last is a clever young man, with much of 
his father's talent for mimicry. Rather forward though.^ Mr. Scrope 
also came out, which fills our house. 

January 10. — Bodily health, the mainspring of the microcosm, 
seems quite restored. No more flinching or nervous fits, but the 
sound mind in the sound body. What poor things does a fever-fit or 
an overflowing of the bile make of the masters of creation ! 

The snow begins to fall thick this morning — 

"The landlord then aloud did say, 
As how he wished they would go away." 

To have our friends shut up here would be rather too much of a good 
thing. 

The day cleared up and was very pleasant. Had a good walk and 
looked at the curling. Mr. Mathews made himself very amusing in 
the evening. He has the good-nature to show his accomplishments 
without pressing, and without the appearance of feeling pain. On the 
contrary, I dare say he enjoys the pleasure he communicates. 

January 11. — I got proof-sheets, in which it seems I have repeat- 
ed a whole passage of history which had been told before. James is 
in an awful stew, and I cannot blame him ; but then he should con- 



1 In a letter of this date to his sister-in-law, 2 See letter addressed by C. J. Jfathews to 

Mrs. Thomas Scott, Sir Walter says: — "Poor his mother, iu which he says, "I took partic- 

aunt Curlie died like a Roman, or rather like ular notice of everything in the room (Sir Wal- 

one of the Sandy Knowe bairns, the most sto- ter's sanctum), and if he had left me thei-e, 

ical race I ever knew. She turned every one should certainly have read all his notes." Me- 

out of the room, and drew her last breath alone. moirs, edited by Dickens, 2 vols., London, 1879, 

So did my uncle. Captain Robert Scott, and sev- vol. i. p. 284. 
eral others of that family." — j. g. l. 

4 



50 JOURNAL [Jan. 

sider the hyoscyamus which I was taking, and the anxious botheration 
about the money-naarket. However, as Chaucer says: — 

"There is na workeman 
That can bothe workeii wel and hastilie ; 
This must be done at leisure parfitly." ^ 

January 12. — Mathews last night gave us a very perfect imitation 
of old Cumberland, who carried the poetic jealousy and irritability 
further than any man I ever saw. He was a great flatterer too, the 
old rogue. Will Erskine used to admire him. I think he w^anted 
originality. A very high-bred man in point of manners in society. 

My little artist. Knight, gets on better with his portrait — the feat- 
ures are, however, too pinched, I think. 

Upon the whole, the days pass pleasantly enough — work till one 
or two, then an hour or two's walk in the snow, then lighter w^ork, or 
reading. Late dinner, and singing or chat in the evening. Mathews 
has really all the will, as well as the talent, to be amusing. He con- 
firms my idea of ventriloquism (which is an absurd word), as being 
merely the art of imitating sounds at a greater or less distance, assist- 
ed by some little points of trick to influence the imagination of the 
audience — the vulgar idea of a peculiar organisation (beyond fineness 
of ear and of utterance) is nonsense. 

January 13.— Our party are about to disperse — 

"Like youthful steers unyoked, east, north, and south." ^ 

I am not sorry, being one of those whom too much mirth always in- 
clines to sadness. The missing so many of my own family, together 
with the serious inconveniences to which I have been exposed, gave 
me at present a desire to be alone. The Skenes return to Edinburgh, 
so does Mr. Scrope — iterii^ the little artist ; Mathew^s to Newcastle ; his 
son to Liverpocl. So exeunt omnes.^ 

1 Merchanfs Tale, lines 9706-8, slightly al- Notwithstanding that the snow lay pretty deep 
tered. on the ground. Sir Walter, old Jilathews. and 
- 2 King Henry IV.. Act iv. Sc. 2.— J. G. L. myself set out with the deerhounds and terriers 
3 "I had long been in the habit of passing to have a large range through the woods and 
the Christmas with Sir Walter in the country, high grounds; and a most amusing excursion 
when he had great pleasure in assembling what it was. from the difficulties which Mathews, 
he called 'a fireside party,' where he was al- unused to that sort of scrambling, had to en- 
ways disposed to indulge in the free and uure- counter, being also somewhat lame from an ac- 
strained outpouring of his cheerful and con- cident he had met with in being thrown out of 
vivial disposition. Upon one of these occasions a gig,— the good-humoured manner with which 
the Comedian Mathews and his son were at each of my two lame companions strove to get 
Abbotsford. and most entertaining they were, over the bad passes, their jokes upon it, alter- 
giving us a full display of all their varied pow- nately shouting for my assistance to help them 
ers in scenic representations, narrations, songs, through, and with all the liveliness of their 
ventriloquism, and frolic of every description, conversation, as everj' anecdote which one told 
as well as a string of most amusing anecdote, was in emulation tried to be outdone by the 
connected with the professional adventures of other by some incident equally if not more en- 
theelder, and the travels of the son, who seemed tertaining. — and it may be well supposed that 
as much a genius as his father. He has never the healthful exercise of a walk of this descrip- 
appeared on the stage, although abundantly fit tion dispused every one to enjoy the festivity 
to distinguish himself in that department, but which was to close the day." — Mr. Skene's 
has taken to the profession of architecture. Reminiscences. 



1826.] JOURNAL 51 

Mathews assures me that Sheridan was generally very dull in so- 
ciety, and sate sullen and silent, swallowing glass after glass, rather a 
hindrance than a help. But there was a time when he broke out with 
a resumption of what had been going on, done with great force, and 
generally attacking some person in the company, or some opinion 
which he had expressed. I never saw Sheridan but in large parties. 
He had a Bardolph countenance, with heavy features, but his eye pos- 
sessed the most distinguished brilliancy. Mathews says it is very 
simple in Tom Moore to admire how Sheridan came by the means of 
paying the price of Drury Lane Theatre, when all the world knows he 
never paid it at all ; and that Lacy, who sold it, was reduced to want 
by his breach of faith. ^ Dined quiet with Anne, Lady Scott, and 
Gordon. 

January 14. — An odd mysterious letter from Constable, who is 
gone post to London, to put something to rights which is wrong be- 
twixt them, their banker, and another moneyed friend. It strikes me 
to be that sort of letter which I have seen men write when they are 
desirous that their disagreeable intelligence should be rather appre- 
hended than avowed. I thought he had been in London a fortnight 
ago, disposing of property to meet this exigence, and so I think he 
should. Well, I must have patience. But these terrors and frights 
are truly annoying. Luckily the funny people are gone, and I shall 
not have the task of grinning w^hen I am serious enough. Dined as 
yesterday. 

A letter from J. B. mentioning Constable's journey, but without 
expressing much, if any, apprehension. He knows C. well, and saw 
him before his departure, and makes no doubt of his being able easily 
to extricate whatever may be entangled. I will not, therefore, make 
myself uneasy. I can help doing so surely, if I will. At least, I 
have given up cigars since the year began, and have now no wish to 
return to the habit, as it is called. I see no reason why one should 
not be able to vanquish, with God's assistance, these noxious thoughts 
which foretell evil but cannot remedy it. 

January 15. — Like yesterday, a hard frost. Thermometer at 10; 
water in my dressing-room frozen to flint ; yet I had a fine walk yes- 
terday, the sun dancing delightfully on "grim Nature's visage hoar."^ 
Were it not the plague of being dragged along by another person, I 
should like such weather as well as summer ; but having Tom Purdie 
to do this oflice reconciles me to it. / cannot cleik witJi John^ as old 
Mrs. Mure [of Caldwell] used to say. I mean, that an ordinary me- 
nial servant thus hooked to your side reminds me of the twin bodies 
mentioned by Pitscottie, being two trunks on the same waist and legs. 
One died before the other, and remained a dead burden on the back 
of its companion.^ Such is close union with a person whom you can- 

1 See Moore's ii/e of Sheridan, vol. i. p. 191. ^ Lindsay's Chronicles of Scotland, 2 vols. 

This work was published late in 1825.— J. g. l. Ediu. 1814, pp. 246-7. 
"^ Burns's Vision.— s. G. l. 



52 JOURNAL [Jan. 

not well converse witli, and whose presence is yet indispensable to 
your getting on. An actual companion, whether humble or your equal, 
is still worse. But Tom Purdie is just the thing, kneaded up between 
the friend and servant, as well as Uncle Toby's bowling-green between 
sand and clay. You are certain he is proud as well as patient under 
his burthen, and you are under no more constraint than with a pony. 
I must ride him to-day if the weather holds up. Meantime I will cor- 
rect that curious fellow Pepys' Diary, — I mean the article I have made 
of it for the Quarterly. 

Edinburgh., January 16. — Came through cold roads to as cold 
news. Hurst and Robinson have suffered a bill of £1000 to come 
back upon Constable, which I suppose infers the ruin of both houses. 
We shall soon see. Constable, it seems, who was to have set off in 
the last week of December, dawdled here till in all human probability 
his going or staying became a matter of mighty little consequence. 
He could not be there till Monday night, and his resources must have 
come too late. Dined with the Skenes.^ 

January 17.- — James Ballantyne this morning — good honest fel- 
low, with a visage as black as the crook.^ He hopes no salvation ; 
has indeed taken measures to stop. It is hard, after having fought 
such a battle. Have apologised for not attending the Royal Society 
Club, who have a gaudeamus on this day, and seemed to count much 
on my being the preses. 

My old acquaintance. Miss Elizabeth Clerk, sister of Willie, died 
suddenly. I cannot choose but wish it had been S. W. S., and yet 
the feeling is unmanly. I have Anne, my wife, and Charles to look 
after. I felt rather sneaking as I came home from the Parliament 
House — felt as if I were liable monstrari digito in no very pleasant 
way. But this must be borne cum caeteris\ and, thank God, however 
uncomfortable, I do not feel despondent. 

I have seen Cadell, Ballantyne, and Hogarth. All advise me to 
execute a trust of my property for payment of my obligations. So 
does John Gibson,^ and so I resolve to do. My wife and daughter 

1 Mr. Skene in his Reminiscences says :— ruined de fond en comble. It's a hard blow, 

"The family had been at Abbotsford, and it but I must just bear up, the only thing which 

had long been their practice the day they came wrings me is poor Charlotte and the bairns.' " 

to town to take a family dinner at my house, 2 Crook. The chain and hook hanging from 

which had accordingly been complied with the crook-tree over the fire in Scottish cot^ 

upon the present occasion, and I never had tages. 

seen Sir Walter in better spirits or more agree- ^ [Sir Walter's private law-agent.] Mr. John 
able. The fatal intimation of his bankruptcy, Gibson, Junr., W.S., Mr. James Joliie, W.S., 
however, awaited him at home, and next morn- and :Mr. Alexander Monypenny, W.S., were 
ing early I was surprised by a verbal message the three gentlemen who ultimately agreed to 
to come to him as soon as 1 had got up. Fear- take charge, as trustees, of Sir Walter Scott's 
ful that he had got a fresh attack of the com- affairs; and certainly no gentlemen ever ac- 
plaint from which he had now for some years quitted themselves of such an office in a man- 
been free, or that he had been involved in some nor more honourable to themselves, or more 
quarrel, I went to see him by seven o'clock, satisflictory to a client and his creditors. — j. g. 
and found him already by candle light seated at L. Mr. Gibson wrote a little volume of Remi- 
his writing-table, surrounded by papers which niscences of Scott, which was published in 1871. 
he was examining, holding out his hand to me This old friend died in 1879. "In the month 
as I entered, he said, 'Skene, this is the hand of January, 1826," saj^s Mr. Gibson, "Sir AVal- 
of a beggar. Constable has failed, and I am ter called upon me, and explained how mat- 



1826.] JOURNAL 53 

are gloomy, but yet patient. I trust by my hold on the works to 
make it every man's interest to be very gentle with me. Cadell makes 
it plain that by prudence they will, in six months, realise £20,000, 
which can be attainable by no effort of their own. 

January 18. — He that sleeps too long in the morning, let him 
borrow the pillow of a debtor. So says the Spaniard, and so say I. 
I had of course an indifferent night of it. I wish these two days 
were over ; but the worst is over. The Bank of Scotland has be- 
haved very well ; expressing a resolution to serve Constable's house 
and me to the uttermost; but as no one can say to what extent 
Hurst and Robinson's failure may go, borrowing would but linger 
it out. 

January 19. — During yesterday I received formal visits from my 
friends, Skene and Colin Mackenzie (who, I am glad to see, looks 
well), with every offer of service. The Royal Bank also sent Sir John 
Hope and Sir Henry Jardine^ to offer to comply with my wishes. 
The Advocate came on the same errand. But I gave all the same an- 
swer — that my intention was to put the whole into the hands of a 
trustee, and to be contented with the event, and that all I had to ask 
was time to do so, and to extricate my affairs. I was assured of every 
accommodation in this way. From all quarters I have had the same 
kindness. Letters from Constable and Robinson have arrived. The 
last persist in saying they will pay all and everybody. They say,* 
moreover, in a postscript, that had Constable been in town ten days 
sooner, all would have been well. When I saw him on 24th Decem- 
ber, he proposed starting in three days, but dallied, God knows why, 
in a kind of infatuation, I think, till things had got irretrievably 
wrong. There would have been no want of support then, and his 
stock under his own management would have made a return immense- 
ly greater than it can under any other. Now I fear the loss must be 
great, as his fall will involve many of the country dealers who traded 
with him. 

I feel quite composed and determined to labour. There is no 
remedy. I guess (as Mathews makes his Yankees say) that we shall 
not be troubled with visitors, and I calculate that I will not go out at 
all; so what can I do better than labour? Even yesterday I went 
about making notes on Waverley, according to Constable's plan. It 
will do good one day. To-day, when 1 lock this volume, I go to 
W[oodstock]. Heigho ! 



ters stood with the two houses referred to, The latter course was preferred for various rea- 
adding that he himself was a partner in one of sous, but chiefly out of regard for his own feel- 
them— that bills were falling due and dishon- ing. " Reminiscences, p. 12. See entry in Jour- 
oured— and that some immediate arrangement nal under Jan. 24. 
was indispensably necessary. In such circum- 
stances, only two modes of proceeding could be i Sir John Hope of Pinkie and Craighall, 11th 
thought of— either that he should avail him- Baronet; Sir Henry Jardine, King's Remera- 
self of the Bankrupt Act, and allow his estate brancer from 1820 to 1837 ; and Sir William Rae, 
to be sequestrated, or that he should execute a Lord Advocate, son of Lord Eskgrove, were all 
trust conveyance for behoof of his creditors. • Directors of the Royal Bank of Scotland. 



54 JOURNAL [Jan. 

Knight came to stare at me to complete his portrait. He must 
have read a tragic page, compared to what he saw at Abbotsford.' 

We dined of course at home, and before and after dinner I fin- 
ished about twenty printed pages of Woodstock, but to what effect 
others must judge. A painful scene after dinner, and another after 
supper, endeavouring to comdnce these poor dear creatures that they 
must not look for miracles, but consider the misfortune as certain, 
and only to be lessened by patience and labour. 

January 20. — Indifferent night — very bilious, which may be want 
of exercise. A letter from Sir J. Sinclair, whose absurd vanity bids 
him thrust his finger into every man's pie, proposing that Hurst and 
Robinson should sell their prints, of which he says they have a large 
collection, by way of lottery like Boydell. 

" In scenes like these which break our heart 
Comes Punch, like you and " 

Mais pourtant, cultivons notre jardin. The public favour is my only 
lottery. I have long enjoyed the foremost prize, and something in 
my breast tells me my evil genius will not overwhelm me if I stand 
by myself. Why should I not ? I have no enemies — many attached 
friends. The popular ascendency which I have maintained is of the 
kind which is rather improved by frequent appearances before the 
public. In fact, critics may say what they will, but " hain your repu- 
tation, and tyne your reputation," is a true proverb.""^ 

Sir William Forbes called — the same kind, honest friend as ever, 
with all offers of assistance,^ etc. etc. All anxious to serve me, and 
careless about their own risk of loss. And these are the cold, hard, 
money-making men whose questions and control I apprehended. 

Lord Chief Commissioner Adam also came to see me, and the 
meeting, though pleasing, was melancholy. It is the first time we 
have met since the break up of his hopes in the death of his eldest 
son on his return from India, where he was Chief in Council and 
highly esteemed.* The Commissioner is not a very early friend of 
mine, for I scarce knew him till his settlement in Scotland with his 
present oflSce.^ But I have since lived much with him, and taken 

1 John Prescott Knight, the young artist re- * John Adam, Esq., died on shipboard on his 
ferred to, afterwards R. A., and Secretary to the passage homewards from Calcutta, Ith June 
Academy, wrote (in 1871) to Sir William Stir- 1825.— j. g. l. 

ling Ma.wvell, an interesting account of the s The Right Hon. W. Adam of Blairadam, 

picture and its accidental destruction on the born in 1751. When trial by Jury in civil cases 

very day of Sir Walter's death. Scott Exhibi- was introduced into Scotland iii 1815, he was 

tion Catalogue, 4to, Edin. p. 199. Mr. Knight made Chief Commissioner of the Jury Court, 

died in 1881. which office he held till 1830. 

2 To hain anything is, Anglice, to deal very Mr. Lockhart adds (Life, vol. v. p. 46): "This 
carefully, penuriously about it — tyne, to lose. most amiable and venerable gentleman, my 
Scott often used to say "hain a pen and tyne dear and kind friend, died at Edinburgh, on the 
a pen," which is nearer the proverb alluded 17th February 1839, in the 89th year of his" age. 
to.— J. G. L. He retained his strong mental faculties in their 

3 The late Sir William Forbes, Baronet, sue- perfect vigour to the last days of this long life, 
ceeded his father (the biographer of Beattie) as and with them all the warmth of social feelings 
chief of the head private banking house in Ed- which had endeared him to all who were so 
inburgh. Scott's amiable friend died 24:th Oct. happy as to have any opportunity of knowing 
1828.— J. G.L. him." 



1826.] JOURNAL 65 

kindly to him as one of the most pleasant, Mnd-hearted, benevolent, 
and pleasing men I have ever known. It is high treason among the 
Tories to express regard for him, or respect for the Jury Court in 
which he presides. I was against that experiment as much as any 
one. But it is an experiment, and the establishment (which the fools 
will not perceive) is the only thing which I see likely to give some 
prospects of ambition to our bar, which has been otherwise so much 
diminished. As for the Chief Commissioner, I dare say he jobs, as 
all other people of consequence do, in elections, and so forth. But 
he is the personal friend of the King, and the decided enemy of 
whatever strikes at the constitutional rights of the Monarch. Be- 
sides, I love him for the various changes which he has endured 
through life, and which have been so great as to make him entitled 
to be regarded in one point of view as the most fortunate — in the 
other, the most unfortunate — man in the world. He has gained and 
lost two fortunes by the same good luck, and the same rash confi- 
dence, which raised, and now threatens, m.j peculium. And his quiet, 
honourable, and generous submission under circumstances more pain- 
ful than mine, — for the loss of world's wealth was to him aggravated 
by the death of his youngest and darling son in the West Indies, — 
furnished me at the time and now with a noble example. So the 
Tories and Whigs may go be d — d together, as names that have dis- 
turbed old Scotland, and torn asunder the most kindly feelings since 

the first day they were invented. Yes, them, they are spells to 

rouse all our angry passions, and I dare say, notwithstanding the 
opinion of my private and calm moments, I will open on the cry 
again so soon as something occurs to chafe my mood ; and yet, God 
knows, I would fight in honourable contest with word or blow for 
my political opinions; but I cannot permit that strife to "mix its 
waters with my daily meal," those waters of bitterness which poison 
all mutual love and confidence betwixt the well-disposed on either 
side, and prevent them, if need were, from making mutual concessions 
and balancing the constitution against the ultras of both parties. The 
good man seems something broken by these afflictions. 

January 21. — Susannah in Tristram Shandy thinks death is best 
met in bed. I am sure trouble and vexation are not. The watches 
of the night pass wearily when disturbed by fruitless regrets and dis- 
agreeable anticipations. But let it pass. 

" "Well, Goodman Time, or blunt, or keen, 
Move thou quick, or take thy leisure, 
Longest day will have its e'en, 
Weariest life but treads a measure." 

I have seen Cadell, who is very much downcast for the risk of 
their copyrights being thrown away by a hasty sale. I suggested 
that if they went very cheap, some means might be fallen on to keep 
up their value or purchase them in. I fear the split betwixt Con- 



56 JOURNAL [Jan. 

stable and Cadell will render impossible what might otherwise be 
hopeful enough. It is the Italian race -horses, I think, which, in- 
stead of riders, have spurs tied to their sides, so as to prick them 
into a constant gallop. Cadell tells me their gross profit was some- 
times £10,000 a year, but much swallowed up with expenses, and his 
partner's draughts, which came to £4000 yearly. "What there is to 
show for this, God knows. Constable's apparent expenses were very 
much within bounds. 

Colin Mackenzie entered, and with his usual kindness engages to 
use his influence to recommend some moderate proceeding to Con- 
stable's creditors, such as may permit him to go on and turn that 
species of property to account, which no man alive can manage so 
well as he. 

Followed Mr. Gibson with a most melancholy tale. Things are 
so much worse with Constable than I apprehended that I shall nei- 
ther save Abbotsford nor anything else. Naked we entered the 
world, and naked we leave it — blessed be the name of the Ijord ! 

January 22.. — I feel neither dishonoured nor broken down by the 
bad — now really bad news I have received. I have walked my last 
on the domains I have planted — sate the last time in the halls I have 
built. But death would have taken them from me if misfortune had 
spared them. My poor people whom I loved so well ! There is just 
another die to turn up against me in this run of ill-luck; i.e. if I 
should break my magic wand in_ the fall from this elephant, and lose 
my popularity with my fortune. Then Woodstock and Bony may 
both go to the paper-maker, and I may take to smoking cigars and 
drinking grog, or turn devotee, and intoxicate the brain another way. 
In prospect of absolute ruin, I wonder if they would let me leave the 
Court of Session. I would like, methinks, to go abroad, 

"And lay my bones far from the Tweed.'''' 

But I find my eyes moistening, and that will not do. I will not yield 
without a fight for it. It is odd, when I set myself to work dogged- 
ly, as Dr. Johnson would say, I am exactly the same man that I ever 
was, neither low-spirited nor distrait. In prosperous times I have 
sometimes felt my fancy and powers of language flag, but adversity 
is to me at least a tonic and bracer ; the fountain is awakened from 
its inmost recesses, as if the spirit of affliction had troubled it in his 
passage. 

Poor Mr. Pole the harper sent to offer me £500 or £600, proba- 
bly his all.' There is much good in the world, after all. But I will 
involve no friend, either rich or poor. My own right hand shall do it 

1 Mr. Pole had long attended Sir Walter panied his disasters.— J. G. l. For Mr. Pole's 

Scott's daughters as teacher of the harp. In letter see Life, vol. viii. p. 205. Mr. Pole went 

the end Scott always spoke of his conduct as to live in England and died at Kensington, 
the most affecting circumstance that accom- 



1826.] JOURNAL 57 

— else will I be done in the slang language, and undone in common 
parlance. 

I am glad that, beyond my own family, who are, excepting L. S., 
young and able to bear sorrow, of which this is the first taste to some 
of them, most of the hearts are past aching which would have once 
been inconsolable on this occasion. I do not mean that many will 
not seriously regret, and some perhaps lament, my misfortunes. But 
my dear mother, my almost sister, Christy R[utherfor]d,' poor Will 
Erskine — these would have been mourners indeed. 

Well — exertion — exertion. O Invention, rouse thyself ! May man 
be kind ! May God be propitious ! The worst is, I never quite know 
when I am right or w^rong ; and Ballantyne, who does know in some 
degree, will fear to tell me. Lockhart would be worth gold just now, 
but he too would be too diffident to speak broad out. All my hope 
is in the continued indulgence of the public. I have a funeral-letter 
to the burial of the Chevalier Yelin, a foreigner of learning and tal- 
ent, who has died at the Royal Hotel. He wished to be introduced 
to me, and was to have read a paper before the Royal Society when 
this introduction was to have taken place. I was not at the Society 
that evening, and the poor gentleman was taken ill at the meeting 
and unable to proceed. He went to his bed and never rose again ; 
and now his funeral will be the first public place I shall appear at. 
He dead, and I ruined ; this is what you call a meeting.'"' 

January 23. — Slept ill, not having been abroad these eight days 
— splendida hilis. Then a dead sleep in the morning, and when the 
awakening comes, a strong feeling how well I could dispense with it 
for once and for ever. This passes away, however, as better and 
more dutiful thoughts arise in my mind. I know not if my imagina- 
tion has flagged ; probably it has ; but at least my powers of labour 
have not diminished during the last melancholy week. On Monday 
and Tuesday my exertions were suspended. Since Wednesday in- 
clusive I have written thirty-eight of my close manuscript pages, of 
which seventy make a volume of the usual Novel size. 

Wrote till twelve a.m., finishing half of what I call a good day's 
work — ten pages of print, or rather twelve. Then walked in Princes 
Street pleasure-grounds with good Samaritan James Skene, the only 
one among my numerous friends who can properly be termed amicus 
curarum mearum^ others being too busy or too gay, and several being- 
estranged by habit. ^ 

1 Scott's mother's sister. See Life^ vols, i., 3 On the morning of this day Sir Walter 
iii. , v., and vi. wrote the following note to his friend : — 

" Dkae Skene,— If you are disposed for a 

2 Chevalier Yelin, the friend and travelling walk in your gardens any time this morning, 
companion of Baron D'Eichthal, was a native I would gladly accompany you for an hour, 
of Bavaria. His wife had told him playfully since keeping the house so long begins rather 
that he must not leave Scotland without hav- to hurt me, and you, who supported the other 
ing seen the great bard; and he prolonged his day the weight of my body, are perhaps best 
stay in Edinburgh until Scott's return, hoping disposed to endure the gloom of my mind.— 
to meet him at the Royal Society on this even- Yours ever, W, S. 
''^S- " Castle Stbbet, 23 January." 



68 JOURNAL [Jan. 

The walks have been conducted on the whole with much taste, 
though Skene has undergone much criticism, the usual reward of 
public exertions, on account of his plans. It is singular to walk close 
beneath the grim old Castle, and to think what scenes it must have 
seen, and how many generations of three score and ten have risen 
and passed away. It is a place to cure one of too much sensation over 
earthly subjects of mutation. My wife and girl's tongues are chatting 
in a lively manner in the drawing-room. It does me good to hear them. 

January 24. — Constable came yesterday, and saw me for half an 
hour. He seemed irritable, but kept his temper under command. 
Was a little shocked when I intimated that I was disposed to re- 
gard the present works in progress as my own. I think I saw two 
things : — (1) That he is desirous to return into the management of 
his own affairs without Cadell, if he can. (2) That he relies on my 
connection as the way of helping us out of the slough. Indeed he 
said he was ruined utterly without my countenance. I certainly will 
befriend him if I can, but Constable without Cadell is like getting 
the clock without the pendulum — the one having the ingenuity, the 
other the caution of the business. I will see my way before making 
any bargain, and I will help them, I am sure, if I can, without endan- 
gering my last cast for freedom. Worked out my task yesterday. 
My kind friend Mrs. Coutts has got the cadetship for Pringle Short- 
reed, in which he was peculiarly interested. 

"I will call when you please: all hours after in the whole course of my life, for even the 

twelve are the same to me." burnings of political hate seemed to find noth- 

On his return from this walk, Mr. Skene ing in m)^ nature to feed the flame. I am not 

wrote out his recollections of the conversation conscious of having borne a grudge towards 

that had taken place. Of his power to rebuild any man, and at this moment of my over- 

his shattered fortunes, Scott said, '"But woe's throw, so help me God, I wish well and feel 

me, I much mistrust my vigour, for the best kindly to every one. And if I thought that 

of my -energies are already expended. You any of my works contained a sentence hurtful 

have seen, my dear Skene, the Roman coursers to any one's feelings, I would burn it. I think 

urged to their speed by a loaded spur attached even my novels (for he did not disown any of 

to their backs to whet the rusty metal of their them) are free from that blame.' 
age. — ay! it is a leaden spur indeed, and it "He had been led to make this protestation 

goads hard.' from my having remarked to him the singu- 

" I added, ' But what do you think, Scott, of larly general feeling of goodwill and sympathy 

the bits of flaming paper "that are pasted on towards him which every one was anxious to 

the flanks of the poor jades? If we could but testify upon the present occasion. The senti- 

stjck certain small documents on your back, ments of resignation and of cheerful acquies- 

and set fire to them, I think you might submit cence in the dispensation of the Almighty 

for a time to the pricking of the spur.' He which he expressed were those of a Christian 

laughed, and said, 'Ay! Ay!— these weary bills, thankful for the blessings left, and willing, 

if they were but as the thing that is not — come, without ostentation, to do his best. It was 

cheer me up with an account of the Roman really beautiful to see the workings of a strong 

Carnival.' And, accordinglj', with my endeav- and upright mind under the first lash of adver- 

our to do so, he seemed as much interested as sity calmly reposing upon the consolation af- 

if nothing had happened to discompose the forded by his own integrityand manful purposes, 

usual tenor of his mind, but still our conversa- 'Lately,' he said, 'you saw me under the ap- 

tion ever and anon dropt back into the same prehension of the decay of my mental faculties, 

subject, in the course of which he said to me, and I confess that I was under mortal fear when 

' Do you know I experience a sort of deter- I found myself writing one word for another, 

mined pleasure in confronting the very worst and misspelling every word, but that wore oflf, 

aspect of this sudden reverse,— in standing, as and was perhaps occasioned by the effects of 

it were, in the breach that has overthrown my the medicine I had been taking, but have I not 

fortunes, and saying. Here I stand, at least aii reason to be thankful that that misfortune did,^ 

honest man. And God knows, if I have ene- not assail me?— Ay! few have more reason to 

mies, this I may at least with truth .say, that feel grateful to the Disposer of all events than 

I have never wittingly given cause of enmity I have. ' "—if?-. Skene's Reminiscences. 



1826.] JOURNAL 59 

I went to the Court for the first time to-day, and, like the man 
with the large nose, thought everybody was thinking of me and 
my mishaps. Many were, undoubtedly, and all rather regrettingly ; 
some obviously affected. It is singular to see the difference of men's 
manner whilst they strive to be kind or civil in their way of address- 
ing me. Some smile as they wish me good-day, as if to say, " Think 
nothing about it, my lad ; it is quite out of our thoughts." Others 
greeted me with the affected gravity w^hich one sees and despises at 
a funeral. The best bred — all, I believe, meaning equally well — just 
shook hands and went on. A foolish puff in the papers, calling on 
men and gods to assist a popular author, who, having choused the 
public of many thousands, had not the sense to keep wealth when 
he had it. If I am hard pressed, and measures used against me, I 
must use all means of legal defence, and subscribe myself bankrupt 
in a petition for sequestration. It is the course I would have advised 
a client to take, and would have the effect of saving my land, 
which is secured by my son's contract of marriage. I might save 
my library, etc., by assistance of friends, and bid my creditors de- 
fiance. But for this I would, in a court of honour, deserve to lose 
my spurs. No, if they permit me, I will be their vassal for life, and 
dig in the mine of my imagination to find diamonds (or what may 
sell for such) to make good my engagements, not to enrich myself. 
And this from no reluctance to allow myself to be called the Insol- 
vent, which I probably am, but because I will not put out of the 
[powder] of my creditors the resources, mental or literary, which yet 
remain to me. 

Went to the funeral of Chevalier Yelin, the literary foreigner 
mentioned on 2 2d. How many and how various are the ways of 
aflliction ! Here is this poor man dying at a distance from home, 
his proud heart broken, his wife and family anxiously expecting let- 
ters, and doomed only to learn they have lost a husband and father 
for ever. He lies buried on the Calton Hill, near learned and scien- 
tific dust — the graves of David Hume and John Playfair being side 
by side. 

January 25. — Anne is ill this morning. May God help us! If 
it should prove serious, as I have known it in such cases, where am I 
to find courage or comfort ? A thought has struck me — Can we do 
nothing for creditors with the goblin drama, called Fortunes of De- 
vorgoil ? Could it not be added to Woodstoclc as a fourth volume ? 
Terry refused a gift of it, but he was quite and entirely wrong ; it is 
not good, but it may be made so. Poor Will Erskine liked it much.' 

1 "The energy with which Sir Walter had hausted. However, the employment served 
set about turning his resources, both present to occupy his mind, and prevent its brooding 
and past, to immediate account, with a view over the misfortune which had befallen him, 
to prove to his creditors, with as little delay as and joined to the natural contentedness of his 
possible, that all that could depend upon him- disposition prevented any approach of despond- 
self should be put in operation to retrieve his encJ^ 'Here is an old effort of mine to cora- 
affairs, made him often reluctant to quit his pose a melo-drama' (showing me one day a 
study however much he found himself ex- bundle of papers which he had found in his 



60 



JOURNAL 



[Jan. 



Gave my wife her £12 allowance. £24 to last till Wednesday fort- 
night. 

January 26. — Spoke to J. B. last night about Devorgoil, who 
does not seem to relish the proposal, alleging the comparative failure 
of Halidon Hill. Ay, says Self-Conceit, but he has not read it ; and 
when he does, it is the sort of wild fanciful work betwixt heaven and 
earth, which men of solid parts do not estimate. Pepys thought 
Shakespeare's Midsu7nmer Nighfs Dream the most silly play he had 
ever seen, and Pepys was probably judging on the same grounds with 
J. B., though presumptuous enough to form conclusions against a very 
different work from any of mine. How if I send it to Lockhart by 
and by ? 

I called to-day at Constable's ; both partners seemed secure that 
Hurst and Robinson were to go on and pay. Strange that they should 
have stopped. Constable very anxious to have husbanding of the 
books. I told him the truth that I would be glad to have his assist- 
ance, and that he should have the benefit of the agency, but that he 
was not to consider past transactions as a rule for selling them in 
future, since I must needs make the most out of the labours I 
could: item, that I, or whoever might act for me, would of course, 
after what has happened, look especially to the security. He said 
if Hurst and Robinson were to go on, bank notes would be laid 
down. I conceive indeed that they would take Woodstock and Na- 
poleon almost at loss rather than break the connection in the public 
eye. Sir William Arbuthnot and Mr. Kinnear were very kind. But 
cui bono?^ 



repositories). ' This trifle would have been long 
ago destroyed had it not been for our poor 
frieud Kinnedder, who arrested my hand as he 
thought it not bad, and for his sake it was 
kept. I have just read it over, and, do you 
know, with some satisfaction. Faith, I have 
known many worse things make their way very 
well in the world, so, God willing, it shall e'en 
see the light, if it can do aught in the hour of 
need to help the hand that fashioned it.' Upon 
asking the name of this production, he said, ' I 
suspect I must change it, having already fore- 
stalled it by the Fortunes of Nigel. I had call- 
ed it by the Fortunes of Devorgoil, but we must 
not begin to double up in that way, for if you 
leave anything hanging loose, you may be sure 
that some malicious devil will tug at it. I think 
I shall call it The Doom of Devorgoil. It will 
make a volume of itself, and I do not see why 
it should not come out by particular desire as a 
fourth volume to Woodstock. They have some 
sort of connection, and it would not be a diffi- 
cult matter to bind the connection a little closer. 
As the market goes, I have no doubt of the Bib- 
liopolist pronouncing it worth £1000, or £1500.' 
I asked him if he meant it for the stage. ' No, 
no ; the stage is a sorry job, that course will not 
do for these hard days ; besides, there is too 
much machinery in the piece for the stage.' 
I observed that I was not sure of that, for pag- 
eant and machinery was the order of the day, 



and had Shakespeare been of this date he might 
have been left to die a deer-stealer. 'Well, 
then, with all my heart, if they can get the 
beast to lead or to drive, they may bring it on 
the stage if they like. It is a sort of goblin 
tale, and so was the Castle Spectre, which had 
its run.' I asked him if the Castle Spectre had 
yielded Lewis much. ' Little of that, in fact to 
its author absolutely nothing, and yet its merits 
ought to have brought something handsome to 
poor Mat. But Sheridan, then manager, you 
know, generally paid jokes instead of cash, and 
the joke that poor Mat got was, after all, not a 
bad one. Have you heard it? Don't let me 
tell you a story you know.' As I had not heard 
it, he proceeded. 'Well, they were disputing 
about something, and Lewis had clenched his 
argument by proposing to lay a bet about it. I 
shall lay what you ought long ago to have paid 
me for my Castle Spectre. ' ' No, no, Mat, ' ' said 
Sheridan, "I never lay large bets; but come, I 
will bet a trifle with you — I'll bet what the 
Castle Spectre was worth." Now Constable 
managed differently; he paid well and prompt- 
ly, but devil take him, it was all spectral to- 
gethei". Moonshine and no merriment. He 
sowed my field with one hand, and as liberally 
scattered the tares with the other.'" — Mr. 
Skene's Reminiscences. 

1 These two gentlemen were at this time Di- 
rectors of the Bank of Scotland. 



1826.] JOURNAL 61 

Gibson comes with a joyful face announcing all tlie creditors had 
unanimously agreed to a private trust. This is handsome and confi- 
dential, and must warm my best efforts to get them out of the scrape. 
I will not doubt — to doubt is to lose. Sir William Forbes took the 
chair, and behaved as he has ever done, with the generosity of ancient 
faith and early friendship. They^ are deeper concerned than most. 
In what scenes have Sir William and I not borne share together — ■ 
desperate, and almost bloody affrays, rivalries, deep drinking-matches, 
and, finally, with the kindest feelings on both sides, somewhat sepa- 
rated by his retiring much within the bosom of his family, and I mov- 
ing little beyond mine. It is fated our planets should cross though, 
and that at the periods most interesting for me. Down — down — a 
hundred thoughts. 

Jane Russell drank tea with us. 

I hope to sleep better to-night. If I do not I shall get ill, and 
then I cannot keep my engagements. Is it not odd? I can com- 
mand my eyes to be awake when toil and weariness sit on my eye- 
lids, but to draw the curtain of oblivion is beyond my power. I re- 
member some of the wild Buccaneers, in their impiety, succeeded 
pretty well by shutting hatches and hurning brimstone and assafoeti- 
da in making a tolerable imitation of hell — but' the pirates' heaven was 
a wretched affair. It is one of the worst things about this system of 
ours, that it is a hundred times more easy to inflict pain than to cre- 
ate pleasure. 

January 27.— Slept better and less bilious, owing doubtless to the 
fatigue of the preceding night, and the more comfortable news. I 
drew my salaries of various kinds amounting to £300 and upwards 
and sent, with John Gibson's consent, £200 to pay off things at Ab- 
botsford which must be paid. Wrote Laidlaw with the money, di- 
recting him to make all preparations for reduction.^ Anne ill of rheu- 
matism : I believe caught cold by vexation and exposing herself to 
bad weather. 

The Celtic Society present me with the most splendid broadsword 
I ever saw ; a beautiful piece of art, and a most noble weapon. Hon- 
ourable Mr. Stuart (second son of the Earl of Moray), General Graham 
Stirling, and MacDougal, attended as a committee to present it. This 

1 Sir W. Forbes and Co.'s Banking House. ' Observe, I am not in indigence, thougb no lon- 

2 An extract from what is probably the let- ger in affluence, and if I am to exert myself in 
ter to Laidlaw written on this day was printed the common behalf, I must have honourable 
in Chambers's Journal for July 1845. The and easy means of life, although it will be my 
italics are the editor's: — inclination to observe the most strict privacy, 

"For you, my dear friend, we must part— the better to save expense, and also time. Lady 

that is, as laird and factor— and it rejoices me Scott's spirits were alfected at first, but she is 

to think that your patience and endurance, getting better. For myself, I feel like the Eil- 

which set me so good an example, are like to don Hills— quite firm, though a little cloudy. 

bring round better days. You never flattered "I do not dislike the path that lies before 

my prosperity, and in my adversity it is not me. I have seen all that society can show, and 

the least painful consideration that I cannot enjoyed all that wealth can give me, and I am 

any longer be useful to you. But Kaeside, I satisfied much is vanity, if not vexation of 

hope, will still be your residence, and I will spirit. What can I say more, except that I 

have the advantage of your company and ad- will write to you the Instant I know what is to 

vice, and probably your service as amanuensis. be done. " 



62 JOURNAL [Jan. 

was very kind of my friends tlie Celts, with whom I have had so 
many merry meetings. It will be a rare legacy to Walter ; — for my- 
self, good lack ! it is like Lady Dowager Don's prize in a lottery of 
hardware ; she — a venerable lady who always wore a haunch-hoop, 
silk neglige, and triple ruffles at the elbow — having the luck to gain 
a pair of silver spurs and a whip to correspond. 

January 28. — Ballantyne and Cadell wish that Mr. Alex. Cowan 
should be Constable's Trustee instead of J. B.'s. Gibson is deter- 
mined to hold by Cowan. I will not interfere, although I think Cow- 
an's services might do us more good as Constable's Trustee than as 
our own, but I will not begin with thwarting the managers of my af- 
fairs, or even exerting strong influence ; it is not fair. These last four 
or five days I have wrought little ; to-day I set on the steam and ply 
my paddles. 

January 29. — The proofs of vol. i.' came so thick in yesterday 
that much was not done. But I began to be hard at work to-day, and 
must not gurnalise much. 

Mr. Jollie, who is to be my trustee, in conjunction with Gibson, 
came to see me ; — a pleasant and good-humoured man, and has high 
reputation as a man of business. I told him, and I will keep my word, 
that he would at least have no trouble by my interfering and thwart- 
ing their management, which is the not unfrequent case of trusters 
and trustees.'* 

Constable's business seems unintelligible. No man thought the 
house worth less than £1.50,000. Constable told me when he was 
making his will that he was worth £80,000. Great profits on almost 
all the adventures. No bad speculations — yet neither stock nor debt 
to show. Constable might have eaten up his share ; but Cadell was 
very frugal. No doubt trading almost entirely on accommodation is 
dreadfully expensive,^ • 

January 30. — False delicacy. Mr. Gibson, Mr. Cowan, Mr. J. B., 
were with me last night to talk over important matters, and suggest 
an individual for a certain highly confidential situation. I was led 
to mention a person of whom I knew nothing but that he was an hon- 
est and intelligent man. All seemed to acquiesce, and agreed to move 
the thing to the party concerned this morning, and so Mr. G. and Mr. 
C. left me, when J. B. let out that it was their unanimous opinion 
that we should be in great trouble were the individual appointed, 
from faults of temper, etc., which would make it difficult to get on 



1 Life of Bonaparte. (?) million sterling. Sir Walter, as the partner of 
o nr 41 ^ ^ „^v^,«„f ^f \.\c T..„^+ n \fr. Ballantyne and Co., was held responsible for 

2 n In the management of his Trust,'' Mr. ■> j^^'^ j ^^^ ^^,^^ ultimately 

S .T";^;";", i; r,f.e' "C.?^^^^ W^ ^- f^H W Scott and his representatives^ 



niously— the chief labour devolving upon my- 



The other two firms paid their creditors about 



''1^' ^""i ™L>.^ whin %?T,'fr!H*> '■' p^™ ?l' 10 per cent, of the amounts due. It must be 

aid and advice when required. "- i2emims- ^^^^ .^ ^.^^^ however, as far as Constable's 

cences, p. lb. house was concerned, that their property ap- 

3 The total liabilities of the three firms pears to have been foolishly sacrificed by forced 

amounted in round numbers to nearly half-a- sales of copyrights and stock. 



1826.] JOURNAL 63 

with liim. With a hearty curse I hurried J. B. to let them know that 
I had no partiality for the man whatever, and only named hira because 
he had been proposed for a similar situation elsewhere. This is pro- 
voking enough, that they would let me embarrass my affairs with a 
bad man (an unfit one, I mean) rather than contradict me. I dare say 
great men are often used so. 

I laboured freely yesterday. The stream rose fast — if clearly, is 
another question ; but there is bulk for it, at least — about thirty print- 
ed pages. 

" And now again, boys, to the oar." 

January 31. — There being nothing in the roll to-day, I stay at 
home from the Court, and add another day's perfect labour to Wood- 
stocky which is worth five days of snatched intervals, when the cur- 
rent of thought and invention is broken in upon, and the mind shaken 
and diverted from its purpose by a succession of petty interrup- 
tions. 1 have now no pecuniary provisions to embarrass me, and I 
think, now the shock of the discovery is past and over, I am much 
better off on the whole ; I am as if I had shaken off from my shoul- 
ders a great mass of garments, rich, indeed, but cumbrous, and always 
more a burden than a comfort. I am free of an hundred petty public 
duties imposed on me as a man of consideration — of the expense of 
a great hospitality — and, what is better, of the great waste of time 
connected with it. I have known, in my dny, all kinds of society, 
and can pretty well estimate how much or how little one loses by re- 
tiring from all but that which is very intimate. I sleep and eat, and 
work as I was wont ; and if I could see those about me as indifferent 
to the loss of rank as I am, I should be completely happy. As it is. 
Time must salve that sore, and to Time I trust it. 

Since the 14th of this month no guest has broken bread in my 
house save G. H. Gordon^ one morning at breakfast. This happened 
never before since I had a house of my own. But I have played 
Abou Hassan long enough ; and if the Caliph came I would turn him 
back again. 

1 Mr. Gordon was at this time Scott's amanuensis ; he copied, that is to say, the ms. for 
press.— J. G. L. 



FEBRUARY 

February 1. — A most generous letter (thougt not more so than I 
expected) from Walter and Jane, offering to interpose with their fort- 
une, etc. God Almighty forbid ! that were too unnatural in me to 
accept, though dutiful and affectionate in them to offer. They talk 
of India still. With my damaged fortune I cannot help them to re- 
main by exchange, and so forth. He expects, if they go, to go out 
eldest Captain, when, by staying two or three years, he will get the 
step of Major. His whole thoughts are with his profession, and I 
understand that when you quit or exchange, when a regiment goes on 
distant or disagreeable service, you are not accounted as serious in 
your profession ; God send what is for the best ! Remitted Charles 
a bill for £40 — £35 advance at Christmas makes £75. He must be 
frugal. 

Attended the Court, and saw J. B. and Cadell as I returned. Both 
very gloomy. Came home to work, etc., about two. 

February 2. — An odd visit this morning from Miss Jane Bell of 
North Shields, whose law-suit with a Methodist parson of the name 
of Hill made some noise. The worthy divine had in the basest man- 
ner interfered to prevent this lady's marriage by two anonymous let- 
ters, in which he contrived to refer the lover, to whom they were ad- 
dressed, for farther corroboration to himself. The whole imposition 
makes the subject of a little pamphlet published by Marshall, Newcastle. 
The lady ventured for redress into the thicket of English law — lost 
one suit — gained another, with £300 damages, and was ruined. The 
appearance and person of Miss Bell are prepossessing. She is about 
thirty years old, a brunette, with regular and pleasing features, marked 
with melancholy, — an enthusiast in literature, and probably in relig- 
ion. She had been at Abbotsford to see me, and made her way to me 
here, in the vain hope that she could get her story worked up into a 
novel ; and certainly the thing is capable of interesting situations. 
It throws a curious light upon the aristocratic or rather hieratic in- 
fluence exercised by the Methodist preachers within the connection, as 
it is called. Admirable food this would be for the Quarterly , or any 
other reviewers who might desire to feed fat their grudge against 
these sectarians. But there are two reasons against such a publica- 
tion. First, it would do the poor sufferer no good. Secondly, it 
might hurt the Methodistic connection very much, which I for one 
would not like to injure. They have their faults, and are peculiarly 
liable to those of hypocrisy, and spiritual ambition, and priestcraft. 



Feb. 1826.] JOURNAL 65 

On the other hand, they do infinite good, carrying religion into classes 
in society where it would scarce be found to penetrate, did it rely 
merely upon proof of its doctrines, upon calm reasoning, and upon 
rational argument. Methodists add a powerful appeal to the feel- 
ings and passions ; and though I believe this is often exaggerated 
into absolute enthusiasm, yet I consider upon the whole they do much 
to keep alive a sense of religion, and the practice of morality neces- 
sarily connected with it. It is much to the discredit of the Metho- 
dist clergy, that when this calumniator was actually convicted of 
guilt morally worse than many men are hanged for, they only degraded 
him from the first to the second class of their preachers, — leaving a 
man who from mere hatred at Miss Bell's brother, who was a preacher 
like himself, had proceeded in such a deep and infamous scheme 
to ruin the character and destroy the happiness of an innocent per- 
son, in possession of the pulpit, and an authorised teacher of others. 
If they believed him innocent they did too much — if guilty, far too 
little.' 

I wrote to my nephew Walter to-day, cautioning him against a 
little disposition which he has to satire or mechancete, which may be 
a great stumbling-block in his course in life. Otherwise I presage 
well of him. He is lieutenant of engineers, with high character for 
mathematical science — is acute, very well-mannered, and, I think, 
good-hearted. He has seen enough of the world too, to regulate his 
own course through life, better than most lads at his age. 

February 3. — This is the first morning since my troubles that I 
felt at waking 

" I had drunken deep 
Of all the blessedness of sleep." ^ 

I made not the slightest pause, nor dreamed a single dream, nor even 
changed my side. This is a blessing to be grateful for. There is to 
be a meeting of the creditors to-day, but I care not for the issue. If 
they drag me into the Court, ohtorto collo, instead of going into this 
scheme of arrangement, they would do themselves a great injury, and, 
perhaps, eventually do me good, though it would give me much pain. 
James Ballantyne is severely critical on what he calls imitations of 
Mrs. Radcliffe in Woodstock. Many will think with him, yet I am of 
opinion he is quite wrong, or, as friend J. F[errier] says, vrong.^ In 
the first place, I am to look on the mere fact of another author hav- 
ing treated a subject happily as a bird looks on a potato-bogle which 
scares it away from a field otherwise as free to its depredations as any 
one's else ! In 2d place, I have taken a wide difference: my object is 



1 The Cause of Truth Defended, etc. Two s James Ferrier, one of the Clerks of Ses- 
Trials of the Rev. T. Hill, Methodist Preacher, sion,— the father of the authoress oi Marriage, 
for defamation of the character of Miss Bell, The Inheritance, and Destiny. Mr. Ferrier was 
etc. etc. 8vo. Hull and London, 1827. born in 1744:, and died in 1829. 

2 Coleridge's Christabel, Part ii. 

5 



66 JOURNAL [Feb. 

not to excite fear of supernatural things in my reader, but to show the 
effect of such fear upon the agents in the story — one a man of sense 
and firmness — one a man unhinged by remorse — one a stupid unin- 
quiring clown — one a learned and worthy, but superstitious divine. In 
the third place, the book turns on this hinge, and cannot want it. But 
I will try to insinuate the refutation of Aldiboronti's exception into 
the prefatory matter. 

From the 19th January to the 2d February inclusive is exact- 
ly fifteen days, during which time, with the intervention of some 
days' idleness, to let imagination brood on the task a little, I have 
written a volume. I think, for a bet, I could have done it in ten days. 
Then I must have had no Court of Session to take me up two or 
three hours every morning, and dissipate my attention and powers of 
working for the rest of the day. A volume, at cheapest, is worth 
£1000. This is working at the rate of £24,000 a year; but then we 
must not bake buns faster than people have appetite to eat them. 
They are not essential to the market, like potatoes. 

John Gibson came to tell me in the evening that a meeting to-day 
had approved of the proposed trust. I know not why, but the news 
gives me little concern. I heard it as a party indifferent. I remem- 
ber hearing that Mandrin^ testified some horror when he found him- 
self bound alive on the wheel, and saw an executioner approach with 
a bar of iron to break his limbs. After the second and third blow he 
fell a-laughing, and being asked the reason by his confessor, said he 
laughed at his own folly which had anticipated increased agony at 
every blow, when it was obvious that the first must have jarred and 
confounded the system of the nerves so much as to render the suc- 
ceeding blows of little consequence. I suppose it is so with the moral 
feelings ; at least I could not bring myself to be anxious whether these 
matters were settled one way or another. 

February 4. — Wrote to Mr. Laidlaw to come to town upon Mon- 
day and see the trustees. To farm or not to farm, that is the ques- 
tion. With our careless habits, it were best, I think, to risk as little 
as possible. Lady Scott will not exceed with ready money in her 
hand ; but calculating on the produce of a farm is different, and nei- 
ther she nor I are capable of that minute economy. Two cows should 
be all we should keep. But I find Lady S. inclines much for the four. 
If she had her youthful activity, and could manage things, it would 
be well, and would amuse her. But I fear it is too late a week. 

Returned from Court by Constable's, and found Cadell had fled to 
the sanctuary, being threatened with ultimate diligence by the Bank 
of Scotland. If this be a vindictive movement, it is harsh, useless, 
and bad of them, and flight, on the contrary, seems no good sign on 

1 "Authentic Memoirs of the remarkable defiance of the whole army of France," etc. 

Life and surprising Exploits of Mandarin, Cap- 8vo. Lond. 1755. See Waverley Novels, vol. 

tain-General of the French Smugglers, who for' xxxvii. p. 434, Note. — j. g. l. 
the space of nine months resolutely stood in 



1826.] JOURNAL 67 

his part. I hope he won't prove his father or grandfather at Preston- 
pans : — 

" Cadell dressed among the rest, 

Wi' gun and good claymore, man, 
On gelding grey he rode that day, 

Wi' pistols set before, man. 
The cause was gude, he'd spend his blude 

Before that he would yield, man, 
But the night before he left the corps. 

And never faced the field, man." ^ 

Harden and Mrs. Scott called on Mamma. I was abroad. Henry- 
called on me. Wrote only two pages (of manuscript) and a half to- 
day. As the boatswain said, one can't dance always nowther, but, 
were we sure of the quality of the stuff, what opportunities for labour 
does this same system of retreat afford us ! I am convinced that in 
three years I could do more than in the last ten, but for the mine be- 
ing, I fear, exhausted. Give me my popularity — an aioful postulate!. 
— and all my present difficulties shall be a joke in five years ; and it 
is not lost yet, at least. 

February 5. — Rose after a sound sleep, and here am I without bile 
or anything to perturb my inward man. It is just about three weeks 
since so great a change took place in my relations in society, and al- 
ready I am indifferent to it. But I have been always told my feelings 
of joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain, enjoyment and privation, are 
much colder than those of other people. 

"I think the Romans call it stoicism." ^ 

Missie was in the drawing-room, and overheard William Clerk and 
me laughing excessively at some foolery or other in the back-room, to 
her no small surprise, which she did not keep to herself. But do peo- 
ple suppose that he was less sorry for his poor sister,^ or I for my lost 
fortune ? If I have a very strong passion in the world, it is pride, and 
that never hinged upon world's gear, which was always with me — 
Light come, light go. 

February 6. — Letters received yesterday from Lord Montagu, John 
Morritt, and Mrs. Hughes — kind and dear friends all- — with solicitous 
inquiries. But it is very tiresome to tell my story over again, and I 
really hope I have few more friends intimate enough to ask me for it. 
I dread letter-writing, and envy the old hermit of Prague, who never 
saw pen or ink. What then ? One must write ; it is a part of the law 
we live on. Talking of writing, I finished my six pages, neat and 
handsome, yesterday. N.B. At night I fell asleep, and the oil drop- 
ped from the lamp upon my manuscript. Will this extreme unction 
make it go smoothly down with the public ? 

1 See Tranent Muir by Skirving. 3 gee p. 52. 

* Addison, Cato^ i. L 



68 JOURNAL [Feb, 

Thus idly we "profane the sacred time" 
By silly prose, light jest, and lighter rhyme.^ 

I have a song to write, too, and I am not thinking of it. I trust 
it will come upon me at once — a sort of catch it should be.^ I walked 
out, feeling a little overwrought. Saw Constable and turned over 
Clarendon. Cadell not yet out of hiding. This is simple work. 
Obliged to borrow £240, to be refunded in spring, from John Gib- 
son, to pay my nephew's outfit and passage to Bombay. I wish I 
could have got this money otherwise, but I must not let the orphan 
boy, and such a clever fellow, miscarry through my fault. His edu- 
cation, etc., has been at my expense ever since he came from America. 

February Y. — Had letters yesterday from Lady Davy and Lady 
Louisa Stuart,^ two very different persons. Lady Davy, daughter and 
co-heiress of a wealthy Antigua merchant, has been known to me all 
my life. Her father was a relation of ours of a Scotch calculation. 
He was of a good family, Kerr of Bloodielaws, but decayed. Miss 
Jane Kerr married first Mr. Apreece, son of a Welsh Baronet. The 
match was not happy. I had lost all acquaintance with her for a 
long time, when about twenty years ago we renewed it in London. 
She was then a widow, gay, clever, and most actively ambitious to 
play a distinguished part in London society. Her fortune, though 
handsome and easy, was not large enough to make way by dint of 
showy entertainments, and so forth. So she took the blue line, and 
by great tact and management actually established herself as a leader 
of literary fashion. Soon after, she visited Edinburgh for a season 
or two, and studied the Northern Lights. One of the best of them, 
poor Jack Playfair,^ was disposed " to shoot madly from his sphere,"^ 
and, I believe, asked her, but he was a little too old. She found a 
fitter husband in every respect in Sir Humphry Davy, to whom she 
gave a handsome fortune, and whose splendid talents and situation as 
President of the Royal Society gave her naturally a distinguished 
place in the literary society of the Metropolis. Now this is a very 
curious instance of an active-minded woman forcing her way to the 
point from which she seemed furthest excluded. For, though clever 
and even witty, she had no peculiar accomplishment, and certainly no 
good taste either for science or letters naturally. I was once in the 
Hebrides with her, and I admired to observe how amidst sea-sickness, 

1 Variation from 2 Henry IV., Act ii. Sc. 4. John, third Earl of Bute, and grand- daughter 

»See ..GleeforKi.gChar.es... Waverl^ No.- "'^l I'eTjowfL'.'SeScian and Natu- 
ets, vol. XI. p. 4U.— J. G. L. j,j^j Philosopher. Professor Playfair died in 

3 Lady Louisa Stuart, youngest daughter of 1819 in his seventy-second year. 

Have you seen the famed Bas bleu, the gentle dame Apreece, 
"Who at a glance shot through and through the Scots Review, 

And changed its swans to geese » 
Playfair forgot his mathematics, astronomy, and hydrostatics, 
And in her presence often swore, he knew not two and two made four. 

[Squib of 1811.] 

s See Midsummer Night's Dream, Act ii. Sc. 2. 



1828.] JOURNAL 69 

fatigue, some danger, and a good deal of indifference as to what she 
saw, she gallantly maintained her determination to see everything.^ 
It marked her strength of character, and she joined to it much tact, 
and always addressed people on the right side. So she stands high, 
and deservedly so, for to these active qualities, more French I think 
than English, and partaking of the Creole vivacity and suppleness of 
character, she adds, I believe, honourable principles and an excellent 
heart. As a lion-catcher, I could pit her against the world. She flung 
her lasso (see Hall's South America) over Byron himself. But then, 
poor soul, she is not happy. She has a temper, and Davy has a tem- 
per, and these tempers are not one temper, but two tempers, and they 
quarrel like cat and dog, Avhich may be good for stirring up the stag- 
nation of domestic life, but they let the world see it, and that is not 
so well. Now in all this I may be thought a little harsh on my friend, 
but it is between my Gurnal and me, and, moreover, I would cry 
heartily if anything were to ail my little cousin, though she be ad- 
dicted to rule the Cerulean atmosphere.'* Then I suspect the cares 
of this as well as other empires overbalance its pleasures. There 
must be difficulty in being always in the right humour to hold a 
court. There are usurpers to be encountered, and insurrections to be 
put down, an incessant troop, bienseances to be discharged, a sort of 
etiquette which is the curse of all courts. An old lion cannot get 
hamstrung quietly at four hundred miles distance, but the Empress 
must send him her condolence and a pot of lipsalve. To be sure the 
monster is consanguinean, as. Sir Toby says,^ 

Looked in at Constable's coming home ; Cadell emerged from Al- 
satia ; borrowed Clarendon. Home by half-past twelve. 

My old friend Sir Peter Murray * called to offer his own assistance, 
Lord Justice-Clerk's, and Ambercromby's, to negotiate for me a seat 
upon the Bench [of the Court of Session] instead of my Sheriffdom 
and Clerkship. I explained to him the use which I could make of 
my pen was not, I thought, consistent with that situation ; and that, 
besides, I had neglected the law too long to permit me to think of it ; 
but this was kindly and honourably done. I can see people think me 
much worse off than I think myself. They may be right ; but I will 
not be beat till I have tried a rally, and a bold one. 

February 8. — Slept ill, and rather bilious in the morning. Many 
of the Bench now are my juniors. I will not seek ex eleemosynd a 
place which, had I turned my studies that way, I might have aspired 
to long ago ex meritis. My pen should do much better for me than 
the odd £1000 a year. If it fails, I will lean on what they leave me. 
Another chance might be, if it fails, in the patronage which might, 
after a year or two, place me in Exchequer. But I do not count on 

1 This journey was made in 1810.— See Life, 3 Twelfth Night, Act ir. Sc. 3. 
Chapter xxi. vol. iii. p. 271. 

2 Lady Davy survived her distinguished hus- * Sir Patrick llurray of Ochtertyre, then a 
band for more than a quarter of a century; she baron of the Court of Exchequer in Scotland: 
died in London, May, 1855. he died in June, 1837. 



70 JOURXAL [Feb. 

this unless, indeed, the D[uke] of B[uccleuch], when he comes of age, 
should choose to make play. 

Got to my work again, and wrote easier than the two last days. 

Mr. Laidlaw ^ came in from Abbotsford and dined with us. We 
spent the evening in laying down plans for the farm, and deciding 
whom we should keep and whom dismiss among the people. This 
we did on the true negro-driving principle of self-interest, the only 
principle I know which never swerves from its objects. We choose 
all the active, young, and powerful men, turning old age and infirmity 
adrift. I cannot help this, for a guinea cannot do the work of five ; 
but I will contrive to make it easier to the suSerers. 

February 9. — A stormy morning, lowering and blustering, like our 
fortunes. Mea virtute me involvo. But I must say to the Muse of 
fiction, as the Earl of Pembroke said to the ejected nuns of Wil- 
ton, " Go spin, you jades, go spin !" Perhaps she has no tow on her 
roch."^ When I was at Kilkenny last year we went to see a nunnery, 
but could not converse with the sisters because they were in strict re- 
treat. I was delighted with the red-nosed Padre, who showed us the 
place with a sort of proud, unctuous humiliation, and apparent dere- 
liction of the world, that had to me the air of a complete Tartuffe ; a 
strong, sanguine, square-shouldered son of the Church, whom a Prot- 
estant would be apt to warrant against any sufferings he was like tp 
sustain by privation. My purpose, however, just now was to talk of 
the " strict retreat," which did not prevent the nuns from walking in 
their little garden, breviary in hand, peeping at us, and allowing us to 
peep at them. Well, now, loe are in strict retreat ; and if we had been 
so last year, instead of gallivanting to Ireland, this affair might not 
have befallen — if literary labour could have prevented it. But who 
could have suspected Constable's timbers to have been rotten from 
the beo;innino^ ? 

Visited the Exhibition on my way home from the Court. The new 
rooms are most splendid, and several good pictures. The Institution 
has subsisted but five years, and it is astonishing how much superior 
the worst of the present collection are to the teaboard-looking things 
which first appeared. John Thomson, of Duddingston, has far the 
finest picture in the Exhibition, of a large size — subject Dunluce^ a 
ruinous castle of the Antrim family, near the Giant's Causeway, with 
one of those terrible seas and skies which only Thomson can paint. 
Found Scrope there improving a picture of his own, an Italian scene 



1 This cherished and confidential friend had from Scott's observation, years after this pe- 

been living at Kaeside from 1817, and acting as riod [1792]. of a family, with one of whose 

steward on the estate. 3Ir. Laidlaw died in members he had. through the best part of his 

Ross-shire in 1845. life, a close and affectionate connection. To 

Mr. Lockhart says. '•! have the best reason those who were familiar with him. I have per- 

to believe that the kind and manly character haps alreadj' sufBciently indicated the early 

of Dandie [Dinmont in Guy Mannering\. the home of his dear friend, William Laidlaw.'' 

gentle and delicious one of his wife, and some X»/e, vol. i. p. 268. See also vol. ii. p. 59; v. pp 

at least of the most picturesque peculiarities 210-15, 251; vii. p. 168; viii. p. 68, etc. 

of the menage at Charlieshope were filled up ^ Flax on her distaff. 



1826.] JOURNAL 11 

in Calabria. He is, I think, greatly improved, and one of the very 
best amateur painters I ever saw — Sir George Beaumont scarcely ex- 
cepted. Yet, hang it, / do except Sir George. 

I would not write to-day after I came home. I will not say could 
not, for it is not true ; but I was lazy ; felt the desire far niente, which 
is the sign of one's mind being at ease. I read The English in Italy ^^ 
which is a clever book. Byron used to kick and frisk more contempt- 
uously against the literary gravity and slang than any one I ever knew 
who had climbed so high. Then, it is true, I never knew any one 
climb so high ; and before you despise the eminence, carrying people 
along with you, as convinced that you are not playing the fox and the 
grapes,you must be at the top. Moore told me some delightful stories 
of him. One was that while they stood at the window of Byron's 
Palazzo in Venice, looking at a beautiful sunset, Moore was naturally 
led to say something of its beauty, when Byron answered in a tone 
that I can easily conceive, " Oh ! come, d — n me, Tom, don't be poeti- 
cal." Another time, standing with Moore on the balcony of the same 
Palazzo, a gondola passed with two English gentlemen, who were easi- 
ly distinguished by their appearance. They cast a careless look at 
the balcony and went on. Byron crossed his arms, and half stooping 
over the balcony said, " Ah ! d — n ye, if ye had known what two fel- 
lows you were staring at, you would have taken a longer look at us." 
This was the man, quaint, capricious, and playful, with all his immense 
genius. He wrote from impulse, never from effort ; and therefore I 
have always reckoned Burns and Byron the most genuine poetical 
geniuses of my time, and half a century before me. We have, how- 
ever, many men of high poetical talent, but none, I think, of that 
ever-gushing and perennial fountain of natural water. 

Mr. Laidlaw dined with us. Says Mr. Gibson told him he would 
dispose of my affairs, were it any but S. W. S.'^ No doubt, so should 
I, and am wellnigh doing so at any rate. Bnt,fortunajuvante/ much 
may be achieved. At worst, the prospect is not very discouraging to 
one who wants little. Methinks I have been like Burns's poor la- 
bourer. 

" So constantly in Ruin's sight, 
The view o't gives me little fright." 

[JEJdinburgh,^ February 10. — Went through, for a new day, the task 
of buttoning, which seems to me somehow to fill up more of my morn- 
ing than usual — not, certainly, that such is really the case, but that my 
mind attends to the process, having so little left to hope or fear. The 
half hour between waking and rising has all my life proved propitious 



J The English in Italy. 3 vols., Lond. 1825, whd, in his joy on hearing of the baronetcy, 

ascribed to the Marquis of Normauby. proceeded to marli every sheep on the estate 

2 "S. W. S." Scott, in writing of himself, with a large letter "S" in addition to the own- 
often uses these three letters in playful allusion er's initials, W. S., which, according to custom, 
to a freak of his trusty henchman Tom Purdie, had already been stamped on their backs. 



V2 JOURNAL [Feb. 

to any task whicli was exercising ray invention.^ When I get over 
any knotty difficulty in a story, or have had in former times to fill up 
a passage in a poem, it was always when I first opened my eyes that 
the desired ideas thronged upon me. This is so much the case that 
I am in the habit of relying upon it, and saying to myself, when I am 
at a loss, " Never mind, we shall have it at seven o'clock to-morrow 
morning." If I have forgot a circumstance, or a name, or a copy of 
verses, it is the same thing. There is a passage about this sort of 
matutinal inspiration in the Odyssey,'^ which would make a handsome 
figure here if I could read or write Greek. I will look into Pope for 
it, who, ten to one, will not tell me the real translation. I think the 
first hour of the morning is also favourable to the bodily strength. 
Among other feats, when I was a young man, I was able at times to 
lift a smith's anvil with one hand, by what is called the Aon^, or pro- 
jecting piece of iron on which things are beaten to turn them round. 
But I could only do this before breakfast, and shortly after rising. It 
required my full strength, undiminished by the least exertion, and 
those who choose to try it will find the feat no easy one. This morn- 
ing I had some good ideas respecting Woodstock which will make the 
story better. The devil of a difficulty is, that one puzzles the skein 
in order to excite curiosity, and then cannot disentangle it for the 
satisfaction of the prying fiend they have raised. A letter from Sir 
James Mackintosh of condolence, prettily expressed, and which may 
be sung to the old tune of " Welcome, welcome, brother Debtor." A 
brother son of chivalry dismounted by mischance is sure to excite the 
compassion of one laid on the arena before him. 

Yesterday I had an anecdote from old Sir James Steuart Denham,^ 
which is worth writing down. His uncle, Lord Elcho, was, as is well 
known, eng^ao-ed in the affair of 1745. He was dissatisfied with the 
conduct of matters from beginning to end. But after the left wing 
of the Highlanders was repulsed and broken at Culloden, Elcho rode 
up to the Chevalier and told him all was lost, and that nothing re- 
mained except to charge at the head of two thousand men, who were 

1 Moore also felt that the morning was his that the vision occurred just before dawn ; 1. 
happiest time for work, but he preferred *' com- 48-49, avrtKa 5' 'Hwf n>^Oev, ' straightwa}"- came 
posing" in bed! He says somewhere that he the Dawn,' etc. In the latter, there is no spe- 
would have passed half his days in bed for the cial mention of the hour. The vision, however, 
purpose of composition had he not found it too is said to be not a dream, but a true vision 
relaxing. which shall be accomplished (547, ovk ovap uX\' 

2 Macaulay, too, when engaged in his His- vnap ecOXov, '6 rot Te-eXeaneuov earai). 

tory. was in the habit of writing three hours be- "Such passages as these, which are frequent 

fore breakfast daily. in Greek literature, might easily have given 

2 I am assured by Professor Batcher that rise to the notion of a 'matutinal inspiration,' 

there is no such passage in the Odyssey, but he of which Scott speaks." 

suggests •• that what Scott had in his mind was 3 General Sir James Steuart Denham of 

merely the Greek idea of a waking vision being Coltness, Baronet, Colonel of the Scots Greys. 

a true one. They spoke of it as a vnap opposed His father, the celebrated political economist, 

to an oiap, a mere dream. These waking vis- took part in the Rebellion of 1745, and was long 

ions are usually said to be seen towards morn- afterwards an exile. The reader is no doubt 

ing. acquainted with "Lady Mary Worlley Monta- 

"In the Odyssey there are two such visions gu"s Letters" addressed to him and his wife, 

which turn out to be realities: — that of Nausi- Lady Frances. — ,i. g. l. See also Mrs. Calder- 

caa, Bk. vi. 20, etc., and that of Penelope. Bk. wood's Letters, 8vo. Edin. 1884. Sir James 

xix. 535, etc. In the fornaer case we are told died in 1839. 



1826.] JOURNAL 73 

still unbroken, and either turn the fate of the day or die sword in 
hand, as became his pretensions. The Chevalier gave him some eva- 
sive answer, and, turning his horse's head, rode off the field. Lord 
Elcho called after him (I write the very words), " There you go for a 
damned cowardly Italian," and never would see him again, though he 
lost his property and remained an exile in the cause. Lord Elcho left 
two copies of his memoirs, one with Sir James Steuart's family, one 
with Lord Wemyss. This is better evidence than the romance of Chev- 
alier Johnstone ; and I have little doubt it is true. Yet it is no proof 
of the Prince's cowardice, though it shows him to have been no John 
of Gaunt. Princes are constantly surrounded with people who hold 
up their own life and safety to them as by far the most important 
stake in any contest ; and this is a doctrine in which conviction is 
easily received. Such an eminent person finds everybody's advice, 
save here and there that of a desperate Elcho, recommend obedience 
to the natural instinct of self-preservation, which very often men of 
inferior situations find it difficult to combat, when all the world are 
crying to them to get on and be damned, instead of encouraging them 
to run away. At Prestonpans the Chevalier offered to lead the van, 
and he was with the second line, which, during that brief affair, fol- 
lowed the first very close. Johnstone's own account, carefully read, 
brings him within a- pistol-shot of the first line. At the same time, 
Charles Edward had not a head or heart for great things, notwith- 
standing his daring adventure ; and the Irish officers, by whom he 
was guided, were poor creatures. Lord George Murray was the soul 
of the undertaking.^ 

February 11. — Court sat till half-past one. I had but a trifle to do, 
so wrote letters to Mrs. Maclean Clephane and nephew Walter. Sent 
the last, £40 in addition to £240 sent on the 6th, making his full 
equipment £280. A man, calling himself Charles Gray of Carse, 
wrote to me, expressing sympathy for my misfortunes, and offering 
me half the profits of what, if I understand him right, is a patent 
medicine, to which I suppose he expects me to stand trumpeter. He 
endeavours to get over my objections to accepting his liberality (sup- 
posing me to entertain them) by assuring me his conduct is founded 
on a sage selfishness. This is diverting enough. I suppose the Com- 
missioners of Police will next send me a letter of condolence, begging 
my acceptance of a broom, a shovel, and a scavenger's greatcoat, 
and assuring me that they had appointed me to all the emoluments 
of a well-frequented crossing. It would be doing more than they 
have done of late for the cleanliness of the streets, which, witness my 
shoes, are in a piteous pickle. I thanked the selfish sage with due 
decorum — for what purpose can anger serve ? I remember once be- 

1 "Had Prince Charles slept during the whole is every reason for supposing he would have 

of the expedition," says the Chevalier John- found the crown of Great Britain on his head 

stone, " and allowed Lord George Murray to act when he awoke. "—J/ejnoirs of the Rebellion of 

for him according to his own judgment, there 1745, etc. 4to, p. 140. London, 1810.— J. a. L. 



U JOURNAL [Feb. 

fore, a mad woman, from about Alnwick, baited me with letters and 
plans — first for charity to herself or some protege. I gave my guinea. 
Then she wanted to have half the profit of a novel which I was to 
publish under my name and auspices. She sent me the manuscript, 
and a moving tale it was, for some of the scenes lay in the cabinet a 
Veau. I declined the partnership. Lastly, my fair correspondent in- 
sisted I was a lover of speculation, and would be much profited by go- 
ing shares in a patent medicine which she had invented for the bene- 
fit of little babies, I believe. I dreaded to have anything to do with 
such a Herod-like affair, and begged to decline the honour of her cor- 
respondence in future. I should have thought the thing a quiz, but 
that the novel was real and substantial. Anne goes to Ravelston to- 
day to remain to-morrow. Sir Alexander Don called, and we had a 
good laugh together. 

February 12. — Having ended the second volume of Woodstock 
last night, I have to begin the third this morning. Now I have not 
the slightest idea how the story is to be wound up to a catastrophe. 
I am just in the same case as I used to be when I lost myself in for- 
mer days in some country to which I was a stranger. I always push- 
ed for the pleasantest road, and either found or made it the nearest. 
It is the same in writing, I never could lay down a plan — or, having 
laid it down, I never could adhere to it; the action of composition 
always diluted some passages, and abridged or omitted others ; and 
personages were rendered important or insignificant, not according 
to their agency in the original conception of the plan, but according 
to the success, or otherwise, with which I was able to bring them out. 
I only tried to make that which I was actually writing diverting and 
interesting, leaving the rest to fate. I have been often amused with 
the critics distinguishing some passages as particularly labored, when 
the pen passed over the whole as fast as it could move, and the eye 
never again saw them, except in proof. Verse I write twice, and 
sometimes three times over. This may be called in Spanish the Dar 
donde diere mode of composition, in English kab nab at a venture ; it is 
a perilous style, I grant, but I cannot help it. When I chain my 
mind to ideas which are purely imaginative — for argument is a dif- 
ferent thing — it seems to me that the sun leaves the landscape, that 
I think away the whole vivacity and spirit of my original concep- 
tion, and that the results are cold, tame, and spiritless. It is the 
difference between a written oration and one bursting from the un- 
premeditated exertions of the speaker, which have always something 
the air of enthusiasm and inspiration. I would not have young 
authors imitate my carelessness, however ; consilium non currum 
cape. 

Read a few pages of Will D'Avenant, who was fond of having it 
supposed that Shakespeare intrigued with his mother. I think the 
pretension can only be treated as Phaeton's was, according to Field- 
ing's farce — 



1826.] JOURNAL 15 

" Besides, by all the village boys I'm shamed, 
You, the sun's son, you rascal ? — you be damn'd." 

Egad — I'll put that into Woodstock.^ It might come well from the 
old admirer of Shakespeare. Then Fielding's lines were not written. 
What then ? — it is an anachronism for some sly rogue to detect. Be- 
sides, it is easy to swear they were written, and that Fielding adopted 
them from tradition. Walked with Skene on the Calton Hill. 

February 13. — The Institution for the Encouragement of the Fine 
Arts opens to-day, with a handsome entertainment in the Exhibition- 
room, as at Somerset House. It strikes me that the direction given 
by amateurs and professors to their proteges and pupils, who aspire 
to be artists, is upon a pedantic and false principle. All the Fine 
Arts have it for their highest and more legitimate end and purpose, 
to affect the human passions, or smooth and alleviate for a time the 
more unquiet feelings of the mind — to excite wonder, or terror, or 
pleasure, or emotion of some kind or other. It often happens that, 
in the very rise and origin of these arts, as in the instance of Homer, 
the principal object is obtained in a degree not equalled by his suc- 
cessors. But there is a degree of execution which, in more refined 
times, the poet or musician begins to study, which gives a value of 
its own to their productions of a different kind from the rude strength 
of their predecessors. Poetry becomes complicated in its rules — 
music learned in its cadences and harmonies — rhetoric subtle in its 
periods. There is more given to the labour of executing — less attain- 
ed by the effect produced. Still the nobler and popular end of these 
arts is not forgotten ; and if we have some productions too learned, 
too recherches for public feeling, we have, every now and then, music 
that electrifies a whole assembly, eloquence which shakes the forum, 
and poetry which carries men up to the third heaven. But in paint- 
ing it is different ; it is all becom'e a mystery, the secret of which is 
lodged in a few connoisseurs, whose object is not to praise the works of 
such painters as produce effect on mankind at large, but to class them 
according to their proficiency in the inferior rules of the art, which, 
though most necessary to be taught and learned, should yet only be 
considered as the Gradus ad Parnassum — the steps by which the 
higher and ultimate object of a great popular effect is to be attained. 
They have all embraced the very style of criticism which induced 
Michael Angelo to call some Pope a poor creature, when, turning his 
attention from the general effect of a noble statue, his Holiness began 
to criticise the hem of the robe. This seems to me the cause of the 
decay of this delightful art, especially in history, its noblest branch. 
As I speak to myself, I may say that a painting should, to be excel- 

1 The lines are given in Woodstock^ with the in the time of the Commonwealth, it must have 

following apology: ^' We observe this couplet in reached the author of Tom Jones by tradition, 

Fielding's farce" of Tumbledown Dick, founded for no one will suspect the present author of 

on the same classical story. As it was current making the anachronism." 



76 JOURNAL [Feb. 

lent, have something to say to the mind of a man, like myself, well- 
educated, and susceptible of those feelings which anything strongly 
recalling natural emotion is likely to inspire. But how seldom do I 
see anything that moves me much ! Wilkie, the far more than Ten- 
iers of Scotland, certainly gave many new ideas. So does Will Allan, 
though overwhelmed with their rebukes about colouring and group- 
ing, against which they are not willing to place his general and orig- 
inal merits. Landseer's dogs were the most magnificent things I ever 
saw — leaping, and bounding, and grinning on the canvas. Leslie has 
great powers ; and the scenes from Moliere by [Newton] are excellent. 
Yet painting wants a regenerator^ — some one who will sweep the cob- 
webs out of his head before he takes the palette, as Chantrey has 
done in the sister art. At present we are painting pictures from the 
ancients, as authors in the days of Louis Quatorze wrote epic poems 
according to the recipe of Madame Dacier and Co. The poor reader 
or spectator has no remedy ; the compositions are secundum artem^ 
and if he does not like them, he is no judge — that's all. 

February 14. — I had a call from Glengarry^ yesterday, as kind 
and friendly as usual. This gentleman is a kind of Quixote in our 
age, having retained, in their full extent, the whole feelings of clan- 
ship and chieftainship, elsewhere so long abandoned. He seems to 
have lived a century too late, and to exist, in a state of complete law 
and order, like a Glengarry of old, whose will w^as law to his sept. 
Warm-hearted, generous, friendly, he is beloved by those who know 
him, and his efforts are unceasing to show kindness to those of his 
clan who are disposed fully to admit his pretensions. To dispute 
them is to incur his resentment, which has sometimes broken out in 
acts of violence which have brought him into collision with the law. 
To me he is a treasure, as being full of information as to the history 
of his own clan, and the manners and customs of the Highlanders in 
general. Strong, active, and muscular, he follows the chase of the 
deer for days and nights together, sleeping in his plaid when dark- 
ness overtakes him in the forest. He was fortunate in marrying a 
daughter of Sir William Forbes, who, by yielding to his peculiar 
ideas in general, possesses much deserved influence with him. The 
number of his singular exploits would fill a volume ; ^ for, as his pre- 
tensions are high, and not always willingly yielded to, he is every 
now and then giving rise to some rumour. He is, on many of these 
occasions, as much sinned against as sinning ; for men, knowing his 
temper, sometimes provoke him, conscious that Glengarry, from his 
character for violence, will always be put in the wrong by the pubHc. 
I have seen him behave in a very manly manner when thus tempted. 
He has of late prosecuted a quarrel, ridiculous enough in the present 

1 Colonel Ranaldson Jracdonell of Glengarry, the interior of a convent in the ancient High- 
He died in .Janu:u-v, 1828.— j. G. l. land garb, and the effect of such an apparition 

2 "We have had Marochal Macdonald here. on the nuns, who fled in all directions."— Scott 
We had a capital account of Glengarry visiting to Skene, Edinburgh, 24th June, 1825. 



1826.] JOURNAL 11 

day, to have himself admitted and recognised as Chief of the whole 
Clan Ranald, or surname of Macdonald. The truth seems to be, that 
the present Clanranald is not descended from a legitimate Chieftain 
of the tribe ; for, having accomplished a revolution in the sixteenth 
century, they adopted a Tanist, or Captain — that is, a Chief not in 
the direct line of succession, a certain Ian Moidart, or John of Moi- 
dart, who took the title of Captain of Clanranald, with all the powers 
of Chief, and even Glengarry's ancestor recognized them as chiefs de 
facto if not de jure. The fact is, that this elective power was, in 
cases of insanity, imbecility, or the like, exercised by the Celtic tribes ; 
and though Ian Moidart was no chief by birth, yet by election he 
became so, and transmitted his power to his descendants, as would 
King William iii., if he had had any. So it is absurd to set up the 
jus sanguinis now, which Glengarry's ancestors did not, or could not, 
make good, when it was a right worth combating for. I wrought 
out my full task yesterday. 

Saw Cadell as I returned from the Court. He seems dejected, 
apprehensive of another trustee being preferred to Cowan, and gloomy 
about the extent of stock of novels, etc., on hand. He infected me 
with his want of spirits, and I almost wish my wife had not asked 
Mr. Scrope and Charles K. Sharpe for this day. But the former sent 
such loads of game that Lady Scott's gratitude became ungovernable. 
I have not seen a creature at dinner since the direful l7th January, 
except my own family and Mr. Laidlaw. The love of solitude in- 
creases by indulgence ;. I hope it will not diverge into misanthropy. 
It does not mend the matter that this is the first day that a ticket 
for sale is on my house. Poor No. 39.^ One gets accustomed even 
to stone walls, and the place suited me very well. All our furniture, 
too, is to go — a hundred little articles that seemed to me connected 
with all the happier years of my life. It is a sorry business. But 
sursum corda. 

My two friends came as expected, also Missie, and stayed till 
half-past ten. Promised Sharpe the set of Piranesi's views in the 
dining-parlour. They belonged to my uncle, so I do not like to sell 
them.'^ 

February 15. — Yesterday I did not write a line of Woodstock. 
Partly, I was a little out of spirits, though that would not have 
hindered. Partly, I wanted to wait for some new ideas — a sort of 
collecting of straw to make bricks of. Partly, I was a little too far 
beyond the press. I cannot pull well in long traces, when the draught 
is too far behind me. I love to have the press thumping, clattering, 
and banging in my rear ; it creates the necessity which almost always 
makes me work best. Needs must when the devil drives — and drive 



1 No. 39 Castle Street, which had been occu- within a circle ot a few hundred yards. For 

pied by him from 1802, when he removed from description see Life, vol. v. pp. 321, 333-4, etc, 
No. ]0 in the same street. The situation suited 

him, as the houses of nearly all his friends were 2 gee below, March 12. 



78 JOUKNAL [Feb. 

he does even according to the letter. I must work to-day, however. 
Attended a meeting of the Faculty about our new library. I spoke 
— saying that I hoped we would now at length act upon a general 
plan, and look forward to commencing upon such a scale as would 
secure us at least for a century against the petty and partial manage- 
ment, which we have hitherto thought sufficient, of fitting up one 
room after another. Disconnected and distant, these have been cost- 
ing large sums of money from time to time, all now thrown away. 
We are now to have space enough for a very large range of build- 
ings, which we may execute in a simple taste, leaving Government to 
ornament them if they shall think proper — otherwise, to be plain, 
modest, and handsome, and capable of being executed by degrees, 
and in such portions as convenience may admit of. 

Poor James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, came to advise with me 
about his affairs, — he is sinking under the times ; having no assist- 
ance to give him, my advice, I fear, will be of little service. I am 
sorry for him if that would help him, especially as, by his own ac- 
count, a couple of hundred pounds would carry him on. 

February 16. — "Misfortune's gowling bark"^ comes louder and 
louder. By assigning my whole property to trustees for behoof of 
creditors, with two works in progress and nigh publication, and with 
all my future literary labours, I conceived I was bringing into the 
field a large fund of payment, which could not exist without my exer- 
tions, and that thus far I was entitled to a corresponding degree of 
indulgence. I therefore supposed, on selling this house, and various 
other property, and on receiving the price of Woodstock and Napo- 
leon^ that they would give me leisure to make other exertions, and be 
content with the rents of Abbotsford, without attempting a sale. This 
would have been the more reasonable, as the very printing of these 
works must amount to a large sum, of which they will reap the prof- 
its. In the course of this delay I supposed I was to have the chance 
of getting some insight both into Constable's affairs and those of 
Hurst and Robinson. Nay, employing these houses, under precau- 
tions, to sell the works, the publisher's profit would have come in to 
pay part of their debts. But Gibson last night came in after dinner, 
and gave me to understand that the Bank of Scotland see this in a 
different point of view, and consider my contribution of the produce 
of past, present, and future labours, as compensated in full by their 
accepting of the trust-deed, instead of pursuing the mode of seques- 
tration, and placing me in the Gazette. They therefore expected the 
trustees instantly to commence a law-suit to reduce the marriage set- 
tlement, which settles the estate upon Walter, thus loading me with 
a most expensive suit, and, I suppose, selling library and whatever 
they can lay hold on. 

1 Burns's Dedication to Gavin Hamilton— 

" May ne'er misfortune's gowling bark 
Howl through the dwelling o' the Clerk." 



1826.] JOURNAL 79 

Now this seems unequal measure, and would besides of itself to- 
tally destroy any power of fancy or genius, if it deserves the name, 
which may remain to me. A man cannot write in the House of Cor- 
rection ; and this species of peine forte et dure which is threatened 
would render it impossible for one to help himself or others. So I 
told Gibson I had my mind made up as far back as the 24th of 
January, not to suffer myself to be harder pressed than law would 
press me. If this great commercial company, through whose hands 
1 have directed so many thousands, think they are right in taking 
every advantage and giving none, it must be my care to see that they 
take none but what law gives them. If they take the sword of the 
law, I must lay hold of the shield. If they are determined to con- 
sider me as an irretrievable bankrupt, they have no title to object to 
my settling upon the usual terms which the Statute requires. They 
probably are of opinion that I will be ashamed to do this by apply- 
ing publicly for a sequestration. Now, my feelings are different. I 
am ashamed to owe debts I cannot pay ; but I am not ashamed of 
being classed with those to whose rank I belong. The disgrace is in 
being an actual bankrupt, not in being made a legal one. I had like 
to have been too hasty in this matter. I must have a clear under- 
standing that I am to be benefited or indulged in some way, if I bring 
in two such funds as those works in progress, worth certainly from 
£10,000 to £15,000. 

Clerk came in last night and drank wine and water. 

Slept ill, and bilious in the morning. N.B. — I smoked a cigar, 
the first for this present year, yesterday evening. 

February IV. — Slept sound, for Nature repays herself for the vex- 
ation the mind sometimes gives her. This morning put interlocutors 
on several Sheriff-Court processes from Selkirkshire. Gibson came 
to-night to say that he had spoken at full length with Alexander 
Monypenny, proposed as trustee on the part of the Bank of Scot- 
land, and found him decidedly in favour of the most moderate meas- 
ures, and taking burthen on himself for the Bank of Scotland pro- 
ceeding with such lenity as might enable me to have some time and 
opportunity to clear these affairs out. I repose trust in Mr. M. en- 
tirely. His father, old Colonel Monypenny, was my early friend, 
kind and hospitable to me when I was a mere boy. He had much 
of old Withers about him, as expressed in Pope's epitaph — 

" youth in arms approved ! 
soft humanity in age beloved." ^ 

His son David, and a younger brother, Frank, a soldier who per- 
ished by drowning on a boating party from Gibraltar, were my 
school -fellows; and with the survivor, now Lord Pitmilly,^ I have 

1 "0 born to arms! worth in youth ap- 2 David Monypenny had been on the Bench 

proved, from 1813; he retired in 1830, and died at the 

soft humanity in age beloved!" age of eighty-one in 1850. 
—See Pope, Epitaphs, 9. 



80 JOURNAL [Feb. 

always kept up a friendly intercourse. Of this gentleman, on whom 
my fortunes are to depend, I know little. He was Colin Mackenzie's 
partner in business while my friend pursued it, and he speaks highly 
of him: that's a great deal. He is secretary to the Pitt Club, and 
we have had all our lives the habit idem sentire de repuhlica : that's 
much too. Lastly, he is a man of perfect honour and reputation ; and 
I have nothing to ask which such a man would not either grant or 
convince me was unreasonable. I have, to be sure, some of my con- 
stitutional and hereditary obstinacy ; but it is in me a dormant qual- 
ity. Convince my understanding, and I am perfectly docile ; stir my 
passions by coldness or affronts, and the devil w^ould not drive me 
from my purpose. Let me record, I have striven against this beset- 
ting sin. When I was a boy, and on foot expeditions, as we had 
many, no creature could be so indifferent which way our course was 
directed, and I acquiesced in what any one proposed ; but if I was 
once driven to make a choice, and felt piqued in honour to maintain 
my proposition, I have broken off from the whole party, rather than 
yield to any one. Time has sobered this pertinacity of mind ; but it 
still exists, and I must be on my guard against it. 

It is the same with me in politics. In general I care very little 
about the matter, and from year's end to year's end have scarce a 
thought connected with them, except to laugh at the fools who think 
to make themselves great men out of little, by swaggering in the rear 
of a party. But either actually important events, or such as seemed 
so by their close neighbourhood to me, have always hurried me off 
my feet, and made me, as I have sometimes afterwards regretted, 
more forward and more violent than those who had a regular jog-trot 
way of busying themselves in public matters. Good luck ; for had I 
lived in troublesome times, and chanced to be on the unhappy side, 
I had been hanged to a certainty. What I have always remarked has 
been that many who have hallooed me on at public meetings, and so 
forth, have quietly left me to the odium which a man known to the 
public always has more than his own share of ; while, on the other 
hand, they were easily successful in pressing before me, who never 
pressed forward at all, when there was any distribution of public fa- 
vours or the like. I am horribly tempted to interfere in this business 
of altering the system of banks in Scotland ; and yet I know that if 
I can attract any notice, I will offend my English friends without 
propitiating one man in Scotland. I will think of it till to-morrow. 
It is making myself of too much importance after all. 

February/ 18. — I set about Malachi Malagrowther's Letter on 
the late disposition to change everything in Scotland to an English 
model, but without resolving about the publication. They do treat 
us very provokingly. 

" Land of Cakes ! said the Northern bard, 
Though all the world betrays thee, 



1826.] JOURNAL 81 

One faithful pen thy rights shall guard, 
One faithful harp shall praise thee." ' 

Called on the Lord Chief Commissioner, who, understanding there 
was a hitch in our arrangements, had kindly proposed to execute an 
arrangement for my relief. I could not, I think, have thought of it 
at any rate. But it is unnecessary. 

February 19. — Finished my letter (Malachi Malagrowther) this 
morning, and sent it to James B., who is to call with the result this 
forenoon. I am not very anxious to get on with Woodstock. I want 
to see what Constable's people mean to do when they have their trus- 
tee. For an unfinished work they must treat with the author. It is 
the old story of the varnish spread over the picture, which nothing 
but the artist's own hand could remove. A finished work might be 
seized under some legal pretence. 

Being troubled with thick-coming fancies, and a slight palpitation 
of the heart, I have been reading the Chronicle of the Good Knight 
Messire Jacques de Lalain — curious, but dull, from the constant rep- 
etition of the same species of combats in the same style and phrase. 
It is like washing bushels of sand for a grain of gold. It passes the 
time, however, especially in that listless mood when your mind is 
half on your book, half on something else. You catch something to 
arrest the attention every now and then, and what you miss, is not 
worth going back upon ; idle man's studies, in short. Still things 
occur to one. Something might be made out of the Pass or Fountain 
of Tears,^ a tale of chivalry, — taken from the Passage of Arms, which 
Jacques de Lalain maintained for the first day of every month for a 
twelvemonth.^ The first mention perhaps of red-hot balls appears in 
the siege of Oudenarde by the citizens of Ghent. Chronique, p. 293, 
This would be light summer work. 

J. B. came and sat an hour. I led him to talk of Woodstock ; and, 
to say truth, his approbation did me much good. I am aware it may 
— nay, must — be partial ; yet is he Tom Tell-truth, and totally un- 
able to disguise his real feelings.* I think I make no habit of feeding 

1 Parody on Moore's Minstrel Boy.—j. G. l. point—' Come, speak out, my good fellow, what 

2 "Le Pas de la Fontaine des Plears."— has put it in your head to be on ceremony 
Chroniques Nationales. with me? But the result is in one word— dis- 

3 This hint was taken up in Count Robert of appointment !' My silence admitted his infer- 
Paris.—J. G. L. ence to its fullest extent. His countenance 

4 James Ballantyne gives an interesting ac- certainly did look rather blank for a few sec- 
count of an interview a dozen years before this onds (for it is a singular fact, that before the 
time, when " Tom Telltruth " had a somewhat public, or rather the booksellers, gave their 
delicate task to perform :— decision he no more knew whether he had 

"T/ie Lord of the Isles was by far the least written well or ill, than whether a die, which 

popular of the series, and Mr. Scott was very he threw out of a box, was to turn out a sise 

prompt at making such discoveries. In about or an ace). However, he almost instantly re- 

a week after its publication he took me into his sunied his spirits and expressed his wonder 

library, and asked me what the people were rather that his popularity had lasted so long, 

saying about The Lord of the Isles. I hesitat- than that it should have given way at last. At 

ed, much in the same manner that Gil Bias length, with a perfectly cheerful manner, he 

might be supposed to do when a similar ques- said, 'Well, well, James, but you know we 

tion was put by the Archbishop of Grenada, must not droop — for you know we can't and 

but he very speedily brought the matter to a won't give over— we must just try something 
6 



JOURNAL 



[Feb. 



on praise, and despise those whom I see greedy for it, as much as I 
should an under- bred fellow, who, after eating a cherry- tart, pro- 
ceeded to lick the plate. But when one is flagging, a little praise (if 
it can be had genuine and unadulterated by flattery, which is as dif- 
ficult to come by as the genuine mountain-dew) is a cordial after all. 
So now — vamos corazon — let us atone for the loss of the morning. 

February 20. — Yesterday, though late in beginning, I nearly fin- 
ished my task, which is six of my close pages, about thirty pages of 
print, to a full and uninterrupted day's work. To-day I have already 
written four, and with some confidence. Thus does flattery or praise 
oil the wheels. It is but two o'clock. Skene was here remonstrating 
against my taking apartments at the Albyn Club,^ and recommending 
that I should rather stay with them.'^ I told him that was altogether 
impossible ; I hoped to visit them often, but for taking a permanent 
residence I was altogether the country mouse, and voted for 

" A hollow tree, 

A crust of bread and liberty." ^ 

The chain of friendship, however bright, does not stand the attrition 
of constant close contact. 

February 21. — Corrected the proofs of Malachi^ this morning ; it 
may fall dead, and there will be a squib lost ; it may chance to light 



else, and the question is, what it 's to be ?' Nor 
was it any wonder he spoke thus, for he could 
not fail to be unconsciously conscious, if I dare 
use such a term, of his own gigantic, and as 
yet undeveloped, powers, and was somewhat 
under forty years old. I am by no means sure 
whether he then alluded to Waverley, as if he 
had mentioned it to me for the first time, for 
my memory has greatly failed me touching 
this, or whether he alluded to it, as in fact ap- 
pears to have been the case, as having been 
commenced and laid aside several years be- 
fore, but I well recollect that he consulted me 
with his usual openness and candour respect- 
ing his probability of succeeding as a novelist, 
and I confess my expectations were not very 
sanguine. He saw this and said, ' Well, I don't 
see why I should not succeed as well as other 
people. Come, faint heart never won fair lady 
— let us try. ' I remember when the work was 
put into my hands, I could not get myself to 
think much of the Waverley Honour Scenes, 
but to my shame be it spoken, when he had 
reached the exquisite scenes of Scottish man- 
ners at. Tully-Teolan, I thought them, and pro- 
nounced them, vulgar! When the success of 
the book so utterly knocked me down as a man 
of taste, all that the good-natured Author ob- 
served was, ' Well, I really thought you might 
be wrong about the Scotch. AVhy, Burns had 
already attracted universal attention to all 
about Scotland, and I confess I could not see 
why I should not be able to keep the flame 
alive, merely because I wrote in prose in place 
of rhyme. ' " — Memorandum. 

1 This was a club-house on the London plan, 
in Princes Street [No. 54], a little eastward from 



the Mound. On its dissolution soon afterwards, 
Sir W. was elected by acclamation into the elder 
Society, called the Neiu Club, who had then, 
their house in St. Andrew Square [No. 3], and 
since 1837 in Princes Street [No. 85]. 

2 Mr. Skene's house was No. 126 Princes 
Street. Scott's written answer has been pre- 
served; — 

"My Dear Skene, — A thousand thanks for 
your kind proposal. But I am a solitary mon- 
ster by temper, and must necessarily couch m 
a den of my own. I should not, I assure you, 
have made any ceremony in accepting your 
offer had it at all been like to suit me. 

" But I must make an arrangement which is 
to last for years, and perhaps for my lifetime; 
therefore the sooner I place myself on my foot- 
ing it will be so much the better. — Always, 
dear Skene, your obliged and faithful, 

W. Scott. 

3 Pope's Imitation of Horace., Bk. ii. Sat. 6. 

—J. G. L. 

4 These letters appeared in the Edinburgh 
Weekly Journal in February and March, 1826. 
"They were then collected into a pamphlet, 
and ran through numerous editions ; in the 
subsequent discussions in Parliament, they were 
frequently referred to; and although an elab- 
orate answer b)' the then Secretary of the Ad- 
miralty, Mr. Crokor, attracted much notice, and 
was, by the Government of the time, expected 
to neutralise the effect of the northern lucu- 
brations—the proposed measure, as regarded 
Scotland, was ultimatclj'' abandoned, and that 
result was universally ascribed to Malachi Mal- 
agrowther."— Scott's Misc. Works, vol. xxi. 



1826.] JOURNAL 83 

on some ingredients of national feeling and set folk's beards in a 
blaze — and so mucli tbe better if it does. I mean better for Scotland — 
not a whit for me. Attended tbe hearing in P[arliament] House till 
near four o'clock, so I shall do little to-night, for I am tired and 
sleepy. One person talking for a long time, whether in pulpit or at 
the bar, or anywhere else, unless the interest be great, and the elo- 
quence of the highest character, always sets me to sleep. I impu- 
dently lean my head on my hand in the Court and take my nap with- 
out shame. The Lords may keep awake and mind their own affairs. 
Quod supra nos nihil ad nos. These clerks' stools are certainly as 
easy seats as are in Scotland, those of the Barons of Exchequer al- 
ways excepted. 

February/ 22. — Paid Lady Scott her fortnight's allowance, £24. 

Ballantyne breakfasted, and is to negotiate about Malachi with 
Constable and Blackwood. It reads not amiss ; and if I can get a 
few guineas for it I shall not be ashamed to take them ; for paying 
Lady Scott, I have just left between £3 and £4 for any necessary 
occasion and my salary does not become due until 20th March, and 
the expense of removing, etc., is to be provided for: 

"But shall we go mourn for that, my dear? 
The cold moon shines by night, 
And when we wander here and there, 
We then do go most right." ^ 

The mere scarcity of money (so that actual wants are provided) is not 
poverty — it is the bitter draft to owe money which we cannot pay. 
Laboured fairly at Woodstock to-day, but principally in revising and 
adding to Malachi^ of which an edition as a pamphlet is anxiously 
desired. I have lugged in my old friend Cardrona^ — I hope it will 
not be thought unkindly. The Banks are anxious to have it pub- 
lished. They were lately exercising lenity towards me, and if I can 
benefit them, it will be an instance of the "Eang's errand lying in 
the cadger's gate." 

February 23. — Corrected two sheets of Woodstock this morning. 
These are not the days of idleness. The fact is, that the not seeing 
company gives me a command of my time which I possessed at no 
other period in my life, at least since I knew how to make some use 
of my leisure. There is a great pleasure in sitting down to write 
with the consciousness that nothing will occur during the day to 
break the spell. Detained in the Court till past three, and came 
home just in time to escape a terrible squall. I am a good deal jaded, 
and will not work till after dinner. There is a sort of drowsy vac- 
illation of mind attends fatigue with me. I can command my pen 

> Winter''s Tale, Act iv. Sc. 2, slightly al- Sir Walter told many stories. The allusion 

tered. here is to the anecdote of the Leetle Anderson 

2 The late Mr. Williamson of Cardrona in in the first of MalachVs Epistles.— See Scott's 

Peeblesshire, was a strange humorist, of whom Prose Miscellanies, vol. xxi. p. 289.— j. g. l. 



84 JOURNAL [Feb. 

as the school copy recommends, but cannot equally command my 
thought, and often write one word for another. Read a little volume 
called The Omen} — very well written — deep and powerful language. 
Aut Erasmus aut Diabolus, it is Lockhart or I am strangely deceived. 
It is passed for Wilson's though, but Wilson has more of the falsetto 
of assumed sentiment, less of the depth of gloomy and powerful feeling. 
February 24. — Went down to printing-office after the Court, and 
corrected Malachi. J. B.'s name is to be on the imprint, so he will 
subscribe the book. He reproaches me with having taken much 
more pains on this temporary pamphlet than on works which have a 
greater interest on my fortunes. I have certainly bestowed enough 
of revision and correction. But the cases are different. In a novel 
or poem, I run the course alone — here I am taking up the cudgels, 
and may expect a drubbing in return. Besides, I do feel that this is 
public matter in which the country is deeply interested ; and, there- 
fore, is far more important than anything referring to my fame or 
fortune alone. The pamphlet will soon be out — meantime Malachi 
prospers and excites much attention.^ The Banks have bespoke 500 
copies. The country is taking the alarm ; and I think the Ministers 
will not dare to press the measure. I should rejoice to see the old 
red lion ramp a little, and the thistle again claim its nemo me impune. 
I do believe Scotsmen will show themselves unanimous at least where 
their cash is concerned. They shall not want backing. I incline to 
cry with Biron in Love's Labour^ s Lost, 

" More Ates, more Ates ! stir them on." 

I suppose all imaginative people feel more or less of excitation from 
a scene of insurrection or tumult, or of general expression of national 
feeling. When I was a lad, poor Davie Douglas^ used to accuse me 
of being cupidus novarum rerum, and say that I loved the stimulus 
of a broil. It might be so then, and even still — 

"Even in our ashes glow their wonted fires."* 

Whimsical enough that when I was trying to animate Scotland against 
the currency bilf, John Gibson brought me the deed of trust, assign- 

1 The Omen, by Gait, had just been pub- Out claymore and down wi' gun, 

lished.— See Sir Walter's review of this novel ^'^^ to the rogues again." 

in the Miscellaneous Prose Works, vol. xviii p. j^ ^-^e next edition it was suppressed, as some 

333. John Gait died at Greenock in April, 1839. fneuds thought it might be misunderstood. 

~o ?:}"' -r .. ^ Tir , ^- Tir 1 .V ^^^- Croker in his repl}^ had urged that if the 

3 "A Letter from Malachi Malagrowther, author appealed to the edge of the claymore at 

Esq., to the Editor of the Edinburgh Weekly Prestonpans, he might refer him to the point 

Journal, on the proposed Change of Currency, of the bayonet at Culloden.— See Croker's Cor- 

and othor late alterations as they affect, or are respondence, vol. i. pp. 317-320, and Scott's Life 

intended to affect, the kingdom of Scotland. yol. viii. pp. 301-5. 

8vo, Edin. 1826. a' Lord Reston, who died at Gladsmuir in 

The motto to the epistle was:— i819. He was one of Scott's companions at 

"When the pipes begin to play ^^^ High School.— See Life, vol. i. p. 40. 

Tutti taitiie to the drum, * See Cray's Elegy.— J. g. l. 



1826.] JOURNAL 85 

ing my whole estate to be subscribed by me ; so that I am turning 
patriot, and taking charge of the affairs of the country, on the very 
day I was proclaiming myself incapable of managing my own. What 
of that ? The eminent politician. Quidnunc^ was in the same condi- 
tion. Who would think of their own trumpery debts, when they are 
taking the support of the whole system of Scottish banking on their 
shoulders? Odd enough too — on this day, for the first time since 
the awful l7th January, we entertain at dinner — Lady Anna Maria 
Elliot,* W. Clerk, John A. Murray,^ and Thomas Thomson,* as if we 
gave a dinner on account of my cessiofori. 

February 25. — Our party yesterday went off very gaily ; much 
laugh and fun, and I think I enjoyed it more from the rarity of the 
event — I mean from having seen society at home so seldom of late. 
My head aches slightly though ; yet we were but a bottle of Cham- 
pagne, one of Port, one of old Sherry, and two of Claret, among four 
gentlemen and three ladies. I have been led from this incident to 
think of taking chambers near Clerk, in Rose Court. ^ Methinks the 
retired situation should suit me well. There a man and woman 
would be my whole establishinent. My superfluous furniture might 
serve, and I could ask a friend or two to dinner, as I have been ac- 
customed to do. I will look at the place to-day. 

I must set now to a second epistle of Malachi to the Athenians. 
If I can but get the sulky Scottish spirit set up, the devil won't turn 
them. 

" Cock up your beaver, and cock it fu' sprush ; 

We'll over the Border, and give them a brush; 

There's somebody there we'll teach better behaviour; 

Hey, Johnnie lad, cock up your beaver." ® 

February 26. — Spent the morning and till dinner on Malachi'' s 
second epistle to the Athenians. It is difficult to steer betwixt the 
natural impulse of one's national feelings setting in one direction, and 
the prudent regard to the interests of the empire and its internal 
peace and quiet, recommending less vehement expression. I will en- 
deavour to keep sight of both. But were my own interests alone 
concerned, d — n me but I would give it them hot ! Had some valu- 
able communications from Colin Mackenzie and Lord Medwyn, which 
will supply my plentiful lack of facts. 

Received an anonymous satire in doggrel, which, having read the 
first verse and last, I committed to the flames. Peter Murray, son of 

1 In Arthur Murphy's farce of TAe C^sAoZsier- 24; he succeeded Sir Walter as President ot 
«r, or What News? the Bannatyne Club in 1832, and died in 1852. 

fl/.t^FS i'''\nnl^"\S^^^*^.r^."/^^>''p'^f/n^ ' ^0^6 Court, where Mr. Clerk had a bache- 

nnntfnl i«<?o ''• ^^^ "^^ ^'' ^^^^""^ lor's establishment, was situated immediately 

3 Af7oi^,«^oT«^H A^^«.ot« loQ^ o„^ 1QQK behind St. Andrew's Church, George Street. 

«nn If rt^S.r H f All. f J^^l^M n.^.t S The name disappeared from our Street Direc- 

1839 ; he dS in 1859 *<^"^^ ^^^^"^ ^"^^ ^^'' ^^^'^'^ ^^^^^ ^^ 1^*^- 

* The learned editor of the Acts of the Parlia- e Burns, in Johnson's Musical Museum, No. 

ments of Scotland, in 10 vols, folio, Edin. 18U- 319. 



86 JOURNAL [Feb. 1826. 

the clever Lord Elibank, called and sat half-an-hour — an old friend, 
and who, from the peculiarity and originality of his genius, is one of 
the most entertaining companions I have ever known.* But I must 
finish Malachi. 

February 27. — Malachi is getting on ; I must finish him to-night. 
I dare say some of my London friends will be displeased — Canning 
perhaps, for he is engoue of Huskisson. Can't help it. 

The place I looked at won't do ; but I really must get some lodg- 
ing, for, reason or none, Dalgleish^ will not leave me, and cries and 
makes a scene. Xow if I stayed alone in a little set of chambers, he 
would serve greatly for my accommodation. There are some nice 
places of the kind in the New Buildings, but they are distant from 
the Court, and I cannot walk well on the pavement. It is odd enough 
that just when I had made a resolution to use my coach frequently I 
ceased to keep one — in town at least. 

February 28. — Completed Malachi to-day. It is more serious 
than the first, and in some places perhaps too peppery. Never mind, 
if you would have a horse kick, make a crupper out of a whin-cow,^ 
and I trust to see Scotland kick and fling to some purpose. Wood- 
stock lies back for this. But quid non pro patria ? 

' One of the nineteen original members of he cared not how much his wages were re- 

The Club. — See Mr. Irving's letter with names, duced— but go he would not. — j. g. l. 
Life, vol. i. pp. 207-8, and Scott'.s joyous visit 

in 1793 to Meigle, pp. 292-4. s Whin- cow — ^n<^?iC6, a bush of furze.— 

2 Dalgleish was Sir Walter's butler. He said j. g. l. 



MARCH 

March 1. — Malachi is in the Edinburgh Journal to-day, and reads 
like the work of an uncompromising right -forward Scot of the old 
school. Some of the cautious and pluckless instigators will be afraid 
of their confederate ; for if a man of some energy and openness of 
character happens to be on the same side with these truckling jobbers, 
they stand as much in awe of his vehemence as doth the inexperi- 
enced conjurer who invokes a fiend whom he cannot manage. Came 
home in a heavy shower with the Solicitor. I tried him on the ques- 
tion, but found him reserved and cautious. The future Lord Advo- 
cate must be cautious ; but I can tell my good friend John Hope that, 
if he acts the part of a firm and resolute Scottish patriot, both his 
own country and England will respect him the more. Ah ! Hal 
Dundas, there was no such truckling in thy day ! 

Looked out a quantity of things to go to Abbotsford ; for we are 
flitting, if you please.^ It is with a sense of pain that I leave behind 
a parcel of trumpery prints and little ornaments, once the pride of 

Lady S 's heart, but which she sees consigned with indifference 

to the chance of an auction. Things that have had their day of im- 
portance with me I cannot forget, though the merest trifles. But I 
am glad that she, with bad health and enough to vex her, has not the 
same useless mode of associating recollections with this unpleasant 
business. The best part of it is the necessity of leaving behind, viz., 
getting rid of, a set of most wretched daubs of landscapes, in great 
gilded frames, of which I have often been heartily ashamed. The 
history of them was curious. An amateur artist (a lady) happened 
to fall into misfortunes, upon which her landscapes, the character of 
which had been buoyed up far beyond their proper level, sank even 
beneath it, and it was low enough. One most amiable and accom- 
plished old lady continued to encourage her pencil, and to order 
picture after picture, which she sent in presents to her friends. I 
suppose I have eight or ten of them, which I could not avoid accept- 
ing. There will be plenty of laughing when they come to be sold. 
It would be a good joke enough to cause it to be circulated that 
they were performances of my own in early youth, and they would 
be looked on and bought up as curiosities. True it is that I took 

1 The full-length picture of Sir Walter (with session till 1831, when it was sent to Abbots- 

the two dogs, Camp and the deerhound) by ford, where it now hangs.— See Letter, Scott to 

Raeburn, painted in 1809, was at this time Skene, under January 16th, 1831. 
given to Mr. Skene, and remained in his pos- 



88 JOURNAL [March 

lessons of oil-painting in youth from a little Jew animalcule, a smoucli 
called Burrell, a clever sensible creature though ; but I could make 
no progress either in painting or drawing. Nature denied me cor- 
rectness of eye and neatness of hand, yet I was very desirous to be 
a draughtsman at least, and laboured harder to attain that point than 
at any other in my recollection, to which I did not make some ap- 
proaches. My oil-paintings were to Miss above commemorated 

what hers are to Claude Lorraine. Yet Burrell was not useless to 
me altogether neither ; he was a Prussian, and I got from him many 
a long story of the battles of Frederic, in whose armies his father had 
been a commissary, or perhaps a spy. I remember his picturesque 
account of seeing a party of the Black Hussars bringing in some 
forage carts which they had taken from a body of the Cossacks, 
whom he described as lying on the top of the carts of hay, mortally 
wounded, and, like the Dying Gladiator, eyeing their own blood as it 
ran down through the straw. I afterwards took lessons from Walker, 
whom we used to call Blue-beard. He was one of the most con- 
ceited persons in the world, but a good teacher — one of the ugliest 
countenances he had too — enough, as we say, to spean weans. ^ The 
man was always extremely precise in the quality of everything about 
him, his dress, accommodations, and everything else. He became in- 
solvent, poor man, and for some reason or other I attended the meet- 
ing of those concerned in his affairs. Instead of ordinary accommo- 
dations for writing, each of the persons present was equipped with a 
large sheet of drawing paper and a swan's quill. It was mournfully 
ridiculous enough. Skirving^ made an admirable likeness of Walker, 
not a single scar or mark of the smallpox which seamed his counte- 
nance, but the too accurate brother of the brush had faithfully laid it 
down in longitude and latitude. Poor Walker destroyed it (being in 
crayons) rather than let the caricature of his ugliness appear at the 
sale of his effects. I did learn myself to take some vile views from 
Nature. When Will Clerk and I lived very much together, I used 
sometimes to make them under his instruction. He to whom, as to 
all his* family, art is a familiar attribute, wondered at me as a New- 
foundland dog would at a greyhound which showed fear of the water. 
Going down to Liddesdale once, I drew the castle of Hermitage 
in my fashion, and sketched it so accurately that with a few verbal 
instructions Clerk put it into regular form, Williams^ (the Grecian) 
copied over Clerk's, and his drawing was engraved as the frontis- 
piece of the first volume of the Kelso edition. Minstrelsy of the Scot- 
tish Border.* Do you know why you have written all this down. Sir 
W. ? Because it pleases me to record that this thrice -transmitted 

1 Spean a wean, I.e. wean a child. tury. His Travels in Italy and Greece were 

2 Archibald Skirving (1749-1819), well known published in 1820, and the Vieivs in Greece in 
as a portrait painter in chalk and crayons in 1827. This work was completed in 1829, the 
Edinburgh in the early part of this century. year in which he died. 

3 H. W. Williams, a native of Wales, who set- 
tled in Edinburgh at the beginning of this cen- * Vols. i. and ii. were published in 1802.j 



1826.J ■ JOURNAL 89 

drawing, thougli taken originally from a sketch of mine, was ex- 
tremely like Hermitage, which neither of my colleagues in the task 
had ever seen? No, that's not the reason. You want to put off 
writing Woodstoclc^ just as easily -done as these memoranda, but 
which it happens your duty and your prudence recommend, and 
therefore you are loath to begin. 

" Heigho, 
I can't say no ; 
But this piece of task-work off I can stave, 0, 
For Malachi's posting into an octavo ; 
To correct the proof-sheets only this night I have, 0, 
So, Madame Conscience, you've gotten as good as you gave, 
But to-morrow's a new day and we'll better behave, 0, 
So I lay down the pen, and your pardon I crave, 0." 

In the evening Mr. Gibson called and transacted business. 

March 2. — I have a letter from Colin Mackenzie, approving Mala- 
chi, — " Cold men may say it is too strong ; but from the true men 
of Scotland you are sure of the warmest gratitude." I never have 
yet found, nor do I expect it on this occasion, that ill-will dies in 
debt, or what is called gratitude distresses herself by frequent pay- 
ments. The one is like a ward-holding and pays its reddendo in hard 
blows. The other a blanch-tenure, and is discharged for payment of 
a red rose or a peppercorn. He that takes the forlorn hope in an at- 
tack, is often deserted by those that should support him, and who 
generally throw the blame of their own cowardice upon his rashness. 
We shall see this will end in the same way. But I foresaw it from the 
beginning. The bankers will be persuaded that it is a squib which 
may burn their own fingers, and will curse the poor pyrotechnist that 
compounded it ; if they do, they be d — d. Slept indifferently, and 
dreamed of Napoleon's last moments, of which I was reading a medi- 
cal account last night, by Dr. Arnott. Horrible death — a cancer on 
the pylorus. I would have given something to have lain still this 
morning and made up for lost time. But desidiae valedixi. If you 
once turn on your side after the hour at which you ought to rise, 
it is all over. Bolt up at once. Bad night last — the next is sure to 
be better. 

" When the drum beats, make ready ; 
When the fife plays, march away — 
To the roll-call, to the roll-call, to the roll-call, 
Before the break of day." 

Dined with Chief -Commissioner, Admiral Adam, W. Clerk, Thom- 
son, and I. The excellent old man was cheerful at intervals — at 
times sad, as was natural. A good blunder he told us, occurred in 
the Annandale case, which was a question partly of domicile. It was 
proved that leaving Lochvvood, the Earl had given up his kain and 



90 JOURNAL* [March 

carriages \^ this an Englisli Counsel contended was the best of all 
possible proofs that the noble Earl designed an absolute change of 
residence, since he laid aside his ivalking -stick and his coach. 

First epistle of Malachi is getting out of print, or rather is out of 
print already. 

March 3. — Could not get the last sheets of Malachi^ Second 
Epistle, last night, so they must go out to the world uncorrected — a 
great loss, for the last touches are always most effectual ; and I ex- 
pect misprints in the additional matter. We were especially obliged 
to have it out this morning, that it may operate as a gentle prepara- 
tive for the meeting of inhabitants at two o'clock. Vogue la galere 
— we shall see if Scotsmen have any pluck left. If not, they may 
kill the next Percy themselves. It is ridiculous enough for me, in a 
state of insolvency for the present, to be battling about gold and pa- 
per currency. It is something like the humorous touch in Hogarth's 
Distressed Poet, where the poor starveling of the Muses is engaged, 
when in the abyss of poverty, in writing an Essay on payment of the 
National Debt ; and his wall is adorned with a plan of the mines of 
Peru. Nevertheless, even these fugitive attempts, from the success 
which they have had, and the noise they are making, serve to show 
the truth of the old proverb — 

"When house and land are gone and spent, 
Then learning is most excellent." 

On the whole, I am glad of this brulzie, as far as I am concerned ; 
people will not dare talk of me as an object of pity — no more " poor- 
manning." Who asks how many punds Scots the old champion had 
in his pocket when 

"He set a bugle to his mouth, 
And blew so loud and shrill, 
The trees in greenwood shook thereat, 
Sae loud rang ilka hill " ?^ 

This sounds conceited enough, yet is not far from truth. 

The meeting was very numerous, 500 or 600 at least, and unani- 
mous, save in one Mr. Howden, who having been all his life, as I am 
told, in bitter opposition to Ministers, proposed on the present occa- 
sion that the whole contested measure should be trusted to their 
wisdom. I suppose he chose the opportunity of placing his own 
opinion in opposition, single opposition too, to that of a large assem- 
bly. The speaking was very moderate. Report had said that Jef- 
frey, J. A. Murray, and other sages of the economical school, were to 
unbuckle their mails, and give us their opinions. But no such great 

1 ^am in Scotch law means payment in i-i«cZ. 2 Ballad of Hardyknute, slightly altered.— 

Carriages in the same phraseology stands for j. g. l. 
services in driving with horse and cart. 



1826.] JOURNAL 91 

guns appeared. If they had, having the multitude on my side, I 
would have tried to break a lance with them. A few short but well- 
expressed resolutions were adopted unanimously. These were pro- 
posed by Lord RoUo, and seconded by Sir James Fergusson, Bart. I 
was named one of a committee to encourage all sorts of opposition to 
the measure. So I have already broken through two good and wise 
resolutions — one, that I would not write on political controversy ; 
another, that I would not be named on public committees. If my 
good resolves go this way, like snaw aff a dyhe — the Lord help me ! 

March 4. — Last night I had a letter from Lockhart, who, speak- 
ing of Malachi, says, " The Ministers are sore beyond imagination at 
present ; and some of them, I hear, have felt this new whip on the 
raw to some purpose." I conclude he means Canning is offended. 
I can't help it, as I said before — Jiat justitia, mat coelum. No cause 
in which I had the slightest personal interest should have made me 
use my pen 'gainst them, blunt or pointed as it may be. But as they 
are about to throw this country into distress and danger, by a meas- 
ure of useless and uncalled-for experiment, they must hear the opin- 
ion of the Scotsmen, to whom it is of no other consequence than as 
a general measure affecting the country at large, — and mine they 
shall hear. I had determined to lay down the pen. But now they 
shall have another of Malachi^ beginning with buffoonery, and ending 
as seriously as I can write it. It is like a frenzy that they will agi- 
tate the upper and middling classes of society, so very friendly to 
them, with unnecessary and hazardous [projects]. 

" Oh, thus it was they loved them dear, 

And sought how to requite 'em, 

And having no friends left but they, 

They did resolve to fight them." 

The country is very high just now. England may carry the meas- 
ure if she will, doubtless. But what will be the consequence of the 
distress ensuing, God only can foretell. 

Lockhart, moreover, inquires about my affairs anxiously, and asks 
what he is to say about them ; says, " He has inquiries every day ; 
kind, most kind all, and among the most interested and anxious. Sir 
William Knighton,^ who told me the King was quite melancholy all 
the evening he heard of it." This I can well believe, for the King, 
educated as a prince, has, nevertheless, as true and kind a heart as 
any subject in his dominions. He goes on : "I do think they would 
give you a Baron's gown as soon as possible," etc. I have written to 
him in answer, showing I have enough to carry me on, and can dedi- 
cate my literary efforts to clear my land. The preferment would suit 
me well, and the late Duke of Buccleuch gave me his interest for it. 

1 Sir W. Knighton was Physician and Private King. Sir William died in 1836; his Memoirs 
Secretary to George iv. B-ogexs [Tahle-Talk, p. were published in 1838, edited by his widow 
289) says no one had more influence with the 



92 JOURNAL [March 

I dare say the young duke would do the same, for the unvaried love 
I have borne his house ; and by and by he will have a voice poten- 
tial. But there is Sir William Rae in the meantime, whose prevailing 
claim I would never place my own in opposition to, even were it pos- 
sible by a tour de force^ such as L. points at, to set it aside. Mean- 
time, I am building a barrier betwixt me and promotion. Any pros- 
pect of the kind is very distant and very uncertain. Come time, come 
rath, as the Cerman says. 

In the meanwhile, now I am not pulled about for money, etc., 
methinks I am happier without my wealth than with it. Everything 
is paid. I have no one wishing to. make up a sum of money, and 
writing for his account to be paid. Since iVth January I have not 
laid out a guinea, out of my own hand, save two or three in charity, 
and six shillings for a pocket-book. But the cash with which I set 
out having run short for family expenses I drew on Blackwood, 
through Ballantyne, which was honoured, for £25, to account of Mal- 
achi's Letters, of which another edition of 1000 is ordered, and gave 
it to Lady Scott, because our removal will require that in hand. This 
is for a fortnight succeeding Wednesday next, being the 8th March 
current. On the 20th my quarter comes in, and though I have some- 
thing to pay out of it, I shall be on velvet for expense — and regular 
I will be. Methinks all trifling objects of expenditure seem to grow 
light in my eyes. That I may regain independence, I must be saving. 
But ambition awakes, as love of quiet indulgence dies and is morti- 
fied within me. "Dark Cuthullin will be renowned or dead."^ 

March 5. — Something of toddy and cigar in that last quotation, 
I think. Yet I only smoked two, and liquefied with one glass of spir- 
its and water. I have sworn I will not blot out what I have once 
written here. 

Malachi goes on, but I am dubious about the commencement — it 
must be mended at least — reads prosy. 

Had letters from Walter and Jane, the dears. All well. Regi- 
ment about to move from Dublin. 

March 6. — Finished third Malachi, which I don't much like. It 
respects the difficulty of finding gold to replace the paper circulation. 
Now this should have been considered first. The admitting that the 
measure may be imposed is yielding up the question, and Malachi is 
like a commandant who should begin to fire from interior defences 
before his outworks were carried. If Ballantyne be of my own opin- 
ion I will suppress it. We are all in a bustle shifting things to Ab- 
botsford. I believe we shall stay here till the beginning of next 
week. It is odd, but I don't feel the impatience for the country 
which I have usually experienced. 

March 7. — Detained in the Court till three by a hearing. Then 
to the Committee appointed at the meeting on Friday, to look after 

1 Ossian.— J. G. L. 



1826.] JOURNAL 93 

the small-note business. A pack of old faineants^ incapable of man- 
aging such a business, and who will lose the day from mere coldness 
of heart. There are about a thousand names at the petition. They 
have added no designations — a great blunder; for testimonia sunt 
ponderanda, non numeranda should never be lost sight of. They are 
disconcerted and helpless ; just as in the business of the King's visit, 
when everybody threw the weight on me, for which I suffered much 
in my immediate labour, and after bad health it brought on a violent 
eruption on my skin, which saved me from a fever at the time, but 
has been troublesome more or less ever since. I was so disgusted 
with seeing them sitting in ineffectual helplessness spitting on the 
hot iron that lay before them, and touching it with a timid finger, as 
if afraid of being scalded, that at another time I might have dashed 
in and taken up the hammer, summoned the deacons and other heads 
of public bodies, and by consulting them have carried them with me. 
But I cannot waste my time, health, and spirits in fighting thankless 
battles. I left them in a quarter of an hour, and presage, unless the 
country make an alarm, the cause is lost. The philosophical review- 
ers manage their affairs better — hold off — avoid committing them- 
selves, but throw their vis inertice into the opposite scale, and neutral- 
ise the feelings which they cannot combat. To force them to fight 
on disadvantageous ground is our policy. But we have more sneak- 
ers after Ministerial favour than men who love their country, and who 
upon a liberal scale would serve their party. For to force the Whigs 
to avow an unpopular doctrine in popular assemblies, or to wrench 
the government of such bodies from them, would be a coup de maitre. 
But they are alike destitute of manly resolution and sound policy. 
D — n the whole nest of them ! I have corrected the last of Malachi, 
and let the thing take its chance. I have made enemies enough, and 
indisposed enough of friends. 

March 8. — At the Court, though a teind day. A foolish thing 
happened while the Court were engaged with the teinds. I amused 
myself with writing on a sheet of paper notes of Frederick Maitland's 
account of the capture of Bonaparte; and I have lostiiiese notes — 
shuffled in perhaps among my own papers, or those of the teind 
clerks. What a curioas document to be found in a process of valu- 
ation ! 

Being jaded and sleepy, I took up Le Due de Guise on Naples.^ 
I think this, with the old Memoires on the same subject which I have 
at Abbotsford, would enable me to make a pretty essay for the Quar- 
terly. We must take up Woodstoch now in good earnest. Mr. Cowan, 
a good and able man, is chosen trustee in Constable's affairs, with 
full power. From what I hear, the poor man is not sensible of the 

1 Pastoret: Le Due de Guise d Naples, etc., "The Reviewal then meditated was after- 
en 1647 et 1648. 8vo, 1825; also Memoires re- wards published in Foreign Quarterly Revieio, 
lating his passage to Naples and heading the vol. iv. p. 355, but not included in the Misc. 
Second Revolt of that people. Englished, sm. Prose TForfcs. " — Ahhotsford Library Catalogue, 
8vo, 1669. p. 36. 



94 JOURNAL [March 

nature of his own situation ; for myself, I have succeeded in putting 
the matters perfectly out of my mind since I cannot help them, and 
have arrived at a Jlocci-pauci-nihili-pili-^catioii of money, and I thank 
Shenstone for inventing that long word/ They are removing the 
wine, etc., to the carts, and you will judge if our flitting is not mak- 
ing a noise in the world — or in the street at least. 
March 9. — I foresaw justly, 

"When first I set this dangerous stone a-roUing, 
'Twould fall upon myself.'"' 

Sir Robert Dundas to-day put into my hands a letter of between 
thirty and forty pages, in angry and bitter reprobation of Malacki, 
full of general averments and very untenable arguments, all written 
at me by name, but of which I am to have no copy, and which is to 
be shown to me in extenso, and circulated to other special friends, to 
whom it may be necessary to ''give the sign to hate."^ I got it at 
two o'clock, and returned [it] with an answer four hours afterwards, 
in which I have studied not to be tempted into either sarcastic or 
harsh expressions. * A quarrel it is however, in all the forms, between 
my old friend and myself, and his lordship's reprimand is to be read 
out in order to all our friends. They all know what I have said is 
true, but that will be nothing to the purpose if they are desired to 
consider it as false. As for Lord Melville, I do not wonder that he 
is angry, though he has little reason, for he, our watchman stented, has 
from time to time suffered all manner of tampering to go on under 
his nose with the institutions and habits of Scotland. As for myself, 
I was quite prepared for my share of displeasure. It is very curious 
that I should have foreseen all this so distinctly as far back as 17th 
February. Nobody at least can plague me for interest with Lord 
Melville as they used to do. By the way, from the tone of his letter, 
I think his lordship will give up the measure, and I will be the peace- 
offering. All will agree to condemn me as too warm — too rash — and 
get rich on privileges which they would not have been able to save 
but for a little rousing of spirit, which will not perhaps fall asleep 
again. ^ A gentleman called on the part of a Captain [Rutherford], 
to make inquiry about the Border Rutherfords. Not being very 
cleever, as John Fraser used to say, at these pedigree matters, referred 
him to Mrs. Dr. Russell and Robt. Rutherford. The noble Captain 
conceits he has some title to the honours of Lord Rutherford. Very 

1 W. Shenstone's Essays ( 1765 ), p. 115, or * See Arniston Memoirs, 8vo, Edin. 1888, for 

Works (1764-69), vol. iii. p. 49. text of Lord Melville's letter and Sir Walter's 

1 am indebted to Dr. J. A. H. Murray for this reply, pp. 315-326. 
reference, which he kindly supplied from the 

materials for his great English Dictionary on s "Seldom has any political measure called 

Historical Principles. forth so strong and so universal an expression 

2 King Henry VIII., Act v. Sc. 2, slightly al- of public opinion. In every city and in every 
tered.— J. o. l. county public meetings were held to deprecate 

3 "Watch the sign to hate. " — Johnson's the destruction of the one pound and guinea 
Vanity of Human Wishes. notes." — Annual Register (1826), p. 24. 



1826.] JOURNAL 95 

odd — when there is a vacant or dormant title in a Scottish family or 
name, everybody, and all connected with the clan, conceive they have 
quodam modo a right to it. Not being engrossed by any individual, 
it communicates part of its lustre to every individual in the tribe, as 
if it remained in common stock for that purpose. 

March 10. — I am not made entirely in the same mould of passions 
like other people. Many men would deeply regret a breach with so 
old a friend as Lord Melville, and many men would be in despair at 
losing the good graces of a Minister of State for Scotland, and all 
pretty visions about what might be done for myself and my sons, 
especially Charles. But I think my good lord doth ill to be angry, 
like the patriarch of old, and I have, in my odd sans souciance char- 
acter, a good handful of meal from the grist of the Jolly Miller, who 

" Once 
Dwelled ou the river Dee ; 
I care for nobody, no, not I, 
Since nobody cares for me." 

Breakfasted with me Mr. Franks, a young Irishman from Dublin, who 
brought letters from Walter and Captain Longmore of the Royal 
Staff. He has written a book of poetry. Tales of Chivalry and Ro- 
mance, far from bad, yet wants spirit. He talks of publishing his 
recollections in the Peninsula, which must be interesting, for he has, 
I think, sense and reflection. 

Sandie Young^ came in at breakfast-time with a Monsieur Brocque 
of Montpelier. 

Saw Sir Robert Dundas at Court, who condemns Lord Melville, 
and says he will not show his letter to any one ; in fact it would be 
exactly placarding me in a private and confidential manner. He is 
to send my letter to Lord Melville. Colin Mackenzie concurs in 
thinking Lord Melville quite wrong. ^^He must cool in the skin he 
het in.'''' 

On coming home from the Court a good deal fatigued, I took a nap 
in my easy-chair, then packed my books, and committed the refuse 
to Jock Stevenson — 

" Left not a limb on which a Dane could triumph." 

Gave Mr. Gibson my father's cabinet, which suits a man of business 
well. Gave Jock Stevenson the picture of my old favourite dog 
Camp, mentioned in one of the introductions to Marmion, and a lit- 
tle crow-quill drawing of Melrose Abbey by Nelson, whom I used to 
call the Admiral. Poor fellow ! he had some ingenuity, and was, in a 
moderate way, a good penman and draughtsman. He left his situa- 
tion of amanuensis to go into Lord Home's militia regiment, but his 

1 Alex. Young of Harburn, a steady Whig of the old school, and a steady and esteemed friend 
of Sir Walter's. — j. g. l. 



96 JOURXAL [March 

dissipated habits got the better of a strong constitution, and lie fell 
into bad ways and poverty, and died, I believe, in the hospital at 
Liverpool. Strange enough that Henry AVeber, who acted afterwards 
as my amanuensis for many years, had also a melancholy fate ulti- 
mately. He was a man of very superior attainments, an excellent 
linguist and geographer, and a remarkable antiquary. He published 
a collection of ancient Romances, superior, I think, to the elaborate 
Ritson. He also published an edition of Beaumont and Fletcher, but 
too carelessly done to be reputable. He was a violent Jacobin, which 
he thought he disguised from me, while I, who cared not a fig about 
the poor young man's politics, used to amuse myself with teasing him. 
He was an excellent and affectionate creature, but unhappily was afflict- 
ed with partial insanity, especially if he used strong liquors, to which, 
like others with that unhappy tendency, he was occasionally addicted. 
In 1814^ he became quite insane, and, at the risk of my life, I had to 
disarm him of a pair of loaded pistols, which I did by exerting the 
sort of authority which, I believe, gives an effectual control in such 
cases. His friends, who were respectable, placed him in the York 
Asylum, where he pined away and died, I think, in 1814 or 1815.^ 
My patronage in this way has not been lucky to the parties protected. 
I hope poor George Huntly Gordon will escape the influence of the 
evil star. He has no vice, poor fellow, but his total deafness makes 
him helpless. 

March 11. — This day the Court rose after a long and laborious 
sederunt. I employed the remainder of the day in completing a set 
of notes on Captain Maitland's manuscript narrative of the reception 
of Napoleon Bonaparte on board the Bellerophon. It had been pre- 
viously in the hands of my friend Basil Hall, who had made many ex- 
cellent corrections in point of style ; but he had been hypercritical in 
wishing (in so important a matter where everything depends on accu- 
racy) this expression to be altered for delicacy's sake, — that to be 
omitted for fear of giving offence, — and that other to be abridged for 
fear of being tedious. The plain sailor's narrative for me, written on 
the spot, and bearing in its minuteness the evidence of its veracity. 

Lord Elgin sent me, some time since, a curious account of his im- 
prisonment in France, and the attempts which were made to draw 
him into some intrigue which might authorise treating him wdth 
rigour.^ He called to-day and communicated some curious circum- 
stances, on the authority of Fouche, Denon, and othe'rs, respecting 
Bonaparte and the empress Maria Louise, whom Lord Elgin had con- 
versed with on the subject in Italy. His conduct towards her was 
something like that of Ethwald to Elburga, in Joanna Baillie's fine 
tragedy,* making her postpone her high rank by birth to the authority 

1 See it/c, vol. iv. pp. 146-14:8. 3 See Life of Bonaparte. Miscellaneous Prose 

Works, vol. xi. pp. 346-3.51 J. G. l. 

* Plays on the Passions, 2 vols. 8vo, Lond. 

2 Henry Weber died in 1818. 1802, vol. ii. pp. 211-215. 



1826.] JOURNAL 97 

which he had acquired by his talents. Dinner was usually announced 
for a particular hour, and Napoleon's business often made him late. 
She was not permitted to sit down to table, an etiquette which was 
reasonable enough. But from the hour of dinner till the Emperor 
appeared she was to be in the act of sitting down ; that is to say, he 
was displeased if he found her engaged Avith a book, with work, or 
with anything else. She was obliged to be in a state of absolute 
" being about to sit down." She seemed a good deal genee by some- 
thing of that kind, though remembering with pride she had been 
Empress, it might almost be said of the world. The rest for to- 
morrow. 

March 12. — Resumed Woodstock, and wrote my task of six pages. 
I was interrupted by a slumberous feeling which made me obliged 
to stop once or twice. I shall soon have a remedy in the country, 
which affords the pleasanter resource of a walk when such feelings 
come on. I hope I am the reverse of the well-known line, " sleepy 
myself, to give my readers sleep." I cannot gurnalise at any rate, 
having wrought my eyes nearly out.^ 

March 13. — Wrote to the end of a chapter, and knowing no more 
than the man in the moon what comes next, I will put down a few 
of Lord Elgin's remembrances, and something may occur to me in 
the meanwhile. When M[aria] Louise first saw B[onaparte], she 
was in the carriage with his representative general, when she saw a 
horseman ride forward at the gallop, passing and repassing the car- 
riage in a manner which, joined to the behaviour of her companion, 
convinced her who it was, especially as he endeavoured, with a curi- 
osity which would not have been tolerated in another, to peep into 
the windows. When she alighted at the inn at , Napoleon pre- 
sented himself, pulled her by the ear, and kissed her forehead. 

Bonaparte's happiest days passed away when he dismissed from 
about him such men as Talleyrand and Fouche, whose questions and 
objections compelled him to recur upon, modify, and render practica- 
ble the great plans which his ardent conception struck out at a heat. 
When he had Murat and such persons about him, who marvelled and 
obeyed, his schemes, equally magnificent, were not so well matured, 
and ended in the projector's ruin. 

I have hinted in these notes that I am not entirely free from a 
sort of gloomy fits, with a fluttering of the heart and depression of 

1 He had, however, snatched a moment to favourite of mine, from the humorous corre- 

write the following playful note to Mr. Sharpe, spondence between Mr. Mountebank's face and 

little dreaming that the sportive allusion to his the monkey's. I leave town to-day or to-mor- 

return in May would be so sadly realised:— row at furthest. When I return in May I 

"My dear Charles,— You promised when I shall be 

displenished this house that you would accept Bachelor Bluff, bachelor Bluff, 

of the prints of Roman antiquities, which I now Hey for a heart that's ru^rged and tough. 

send. I believe they were once in some es- I shall have a beefsteak and a bottle of wine ol 

teem, though now so detestably smoked that a Sunday, which I hope you will often take 

they will only suit your suburban villa in the share of,— Being with warm regard always 

Cowgate when you remove to that classical yours, Walter Scott."— Sharpe's Correspond- 

residence. I also send a print which is an old ence, vol. ii. pp. 359-60. 

■ 7 



98 JOURNAL [March 

spirits, just as if I knew not what was going to befall me. I can 
sometimes resist this successfully, but it is better to evade than to 
combat it. The hang-dog spirit may have originated in the confu- 
sion and chucking about of our old furniture, the stripping of walls 
of pictures, and rooms of ornaments ; the leaving a house we have so 
long called our home is altogether melancholy enough. I am glad 
Lady S. does not mind it, and yet I wonder, too. She insists on my 
remaining till Wednesday, not knowing what I suffer. Meanwhile, 
to make my recusant spirit do penance, I have set to work to clear 
away papers and pack them for my journey. What a strange med- 
ley of thoughts such a task produces ! There lie letters which made 
the heart throb when received, now lifeless and uninteresting — as are 
perhaps their owners. Riddles which time has read — schemes which 
he has destroyed or brought to maturity — memorials of friendships 
and enmities which are now alike faded. Thus does the ring of 
Saturn consume itself. To-day annihilates yesterday, as the old ty- 
rant swallowed his children, and the snake its tail. But I must say 
to my Gurnal as poor Byron did to Moore, " Damn it, Tom, don't be 
poetical." 

Memorandum. — I received some time since from Mr. Riddoch, of 
Falkirk, a sort of iron mallet, said to have been found in the ruins 
of Grame's Dike ; there it was reclaimed about three months since 
by the gentleman on whose lands it was found, a Doctor — by a very 
polite letter from his man of business. Having unluckily mislaid 
his letter, and being totally unable either to recollect the name of the 
proprietor or the professional gentleman, I returned this day the piece 
of antiquity to Mr. Riddoch, who sent it to me. AVrote at the same 
time to Tom Grahame of Airth, mentioning what I had done. " Touch 
my honour, touch my life — there is the spoon." ^ 

March 14. — J. B. called this morning to take leave, and receive 
directions about proofs, etc. Talks of the uproar about Malachi ; 
but I am tired of Malachi — the humour is off, and I have said what I 
wanted to say, and put the people of Scotland on their guard, as well 
as Ministers, if they like to be warned. They are gradually destroy- 
ing what remains of nationality, and making the country tabula rasa 
for doctrines of bold innovation. Their loosening and grinding down 
all those peculiarities which distinguished us as Scotsmen will throw 
the country into a state in which it will be universally turned to 
democracy, and instead of canny Saunders, they will have a very dan- 
gerous North British neighbourhood. 

Some [English] lawyer expressed to Lord Elibank an opinion, that 
at the Union the English law should have been extended all over 
Scotland. " I cannot say how that might have answered our purpose," 

1 Apropos of the old Scotch lady who had cion resting on her, she was asked to allow 

surreptitiously pocketed a silver spoon, one of her person to he searched, hut she indignantly 

a set of a dozen which were being passed round produced the article^ with "Touch my hon- 

lor examination in an auction room. Suspi- our," etc. 



1826.] JOURNAL 99 

said Lord Patrick, who was never nonsuited for want of an answer, 
" but it would scarce have suited yours^ since by this time the Aber- 
deen Advocates^ would have possessed themselves of all the business 
in Westminster Hall." 

What a detestable feeling this fluttering of the heart is ! I know 
it is nothing organic, and that it is entirely nervous ; but the sicken- 
ing effects of it are dispiriting to a degree. Is it the body brings it 
on the mind, or the mind that inflicts it upon the body ? I cannot 
tell ; but it is a severe price to pay for the Fata Morgana with which 
Fancy sometimes amuses men of warm imaginations. As to body and 
mind, I fancy I might as well inquire whether the fiddle or fiddlestick 
makes the tune. In youth this complaint used to throw me into invol- 
untary passions of causeless tears. But I will drive it away in the 
country by exercise. I wish I had been a mechanic : a turning-lathe 
or a chest of tools would have been a God-send; for thought makes 
the access of melancholy rather worse than better. I have it sel- 
dom, thank God, and, I believe, lightly, in comparison of others. 

It was the fiddle after all was out of order, not the fiddlestick; 
the body, not the mind. I walked out ; met Mrs. Skene, who took 
a turn with me in Princes Street. Bade Constable and Cadell fare- 
well, and had a brisk walk hoine, which enables me to face the 
desolation here with more spirit. News from Sophia. She has had 
the luck to get an anti-druggist in a Dr. Gooch, w^ho prescribes care 
for Johnnie instead of drugs, and a little home-brewed ale instead of 
wine ; and, like a liberal physician, supplies the medicine he prescribes. 
As for myself, while I have scarce stirred to take exercise for four or 
five days, no wonder I had the mulligrubs. It is an awful sensation 
though, and would have made an enthusiast of me, had I indulged my 
imagination on devotional subjects. I have been always careful to 
place my mind in the most tranquil posture which it can assume 
during my private exercises of devotion. 

I have amused myself occasionally very pleasantly during the last 
few days, by reading over Lady Morgan's novel of 0''Donnel^ which 
has some striking and beautiful passages of situation and description, 
and in the comic part is very rich and entertaining. I do not remem- 
ber being so much pleased with it at first. There is a want of story, 
always fatal to a book the first reading — and it is well if it gets a 
chance of a second. Alas ! poor novel ! Also read again, and for 
the third time at least, Miss Austen's very finely written novel of 
Pride and Prejudice. That young lady had a talent for describing 
the involvements and feelings and characters of ordinary life, which 
is to me the most wonderful I ever met with. The Big Bow-wow 
strain I can do myself like any now going ; but the exquisite touch, 

1 The Attorneys of Aberdeen are styled advo- the same time as Waverley. Had it contained 

cates. This valuable privilege is said to have nothing else than the sketch of Bran, the great 

been bestowed at an early period by some Irish wolf-hound, it would have commended 

(sportive) monarch.— j. g. l. itself to Scott. The authoress died in 1859. 

3 This clever book was published in 1814 at 



tare. 



100 JOURNAL [March 

which renders ordinary commonplace things and characters interest- 
ing, from the truth of the description and the sentiment, is denied to 
me. What a pity such a gifted creature died so early ! ' 

March 15. — This morning I leave No. 39 Castle Street, for the 
last time. " The cabin was convenient," and habit had made it 
agreeable to me. I never reckoned upon a change in this particular 
so long as I held an oflBce in the Court of Session. In all my former 
changes of residence it was from good to better ; this is retrograd- 
ing. I leave this house for sale, and I cease to be an Edinburgh 
citizen, in the sense of being a proprietor, which my father and I 
have been for sixty years at least. So farewell, poor 39, and may 
you never harbour worse people than those who now leave you ! Not 
to desert the Lares all at once. Lady S. and Anne remain till Sunday. 
As for me, I go, as aforesaid, this morning. 

" Ha til mi tulidh' ! " 2 

Abbotsford, 9 at night. — The naturally unpleasant feelings which 
influenced me in my ejectment, for such it is virtually, readily evap- 
orated in the course of the journey, though I had no pleasanter com- 
panions than Mrs. Mackay, the house-keeper, and one of the maids ; 
and I have a shyness of disposition, which looks like pride, but it is 
not, which makes me awkward in speaking to my household domes- 
tics. AVith an out-of-doors labourer, or an old woman gathering 
sticks, I can talk for ever. I was welcomed here on my arrival by 
the tumult, great of men and dogs, all happy to see me. One of my 
old labourers killed by the fall of a stone working at Gattonside 
Bridge. Old Will Straiton, my man of wisdom and proverbs, also 
dead. He Avas entertaining from his importance and self-conceit, but 
really a sensible old man. When he heard of my misfortunes, he 
went to bed, and said he would not rise again, and kept his word. 
He was very infirm when I last saw him. Tom' Purdie in great glory, 
being released from all farm duty, and destined to attend the woods, 
and be my special assistant. The gardener Bogie is to take care of 
what small farm we have left, which little would make me give up 
entirely. 

March 16. — Pleasant days make short Journals, and I have little 
to say to-day. I wrote in the morning at Woodstock ; walked from 
one till four ; was down at Huntly Burn and paid my respects to the 
ladies. The spring seems promising, and everything in great order. 
Visited Will Straiton's widow, who squeezed out among many tears 
a petition for a house. I do not think I shall let her have one, as 

1 It is worth noting that a quarter of a cen- the 27th No. of the Quarterly. She died in 

tury after Sir Walter had written these lines, 1817. 
we find Macaulay stating that, in his opinion, 

" there are in the world no compositions which 2 "j return no more,"— see Mackrimmon' s 

approach nearer perfection." Lament by Scott Poetical Works, \'o\. xi. p. 

Scott had already criticised Miss Austen in 332. 



1826.] JOURNAL 101 

she has a bad temper, but I will help her otherwise ; she is greedy 
besides, as was the defunct philosopher William. In a year or two I 
shall have on the toft field a gallant show of extensive woodland, 
sweeping over the hill, and its boundaries carefully concealed. In 
the evening, after dinner, read Mrs. Charlotte Smith's novel of Des- 
mond^ — decidedly the worst of her compositions. 

March 17. — Sent off a packet to J. B.; only three pages copy, so 
must work hard for a day or two. I wish I could wind up my bot- 
tom handsomely — an odd but accredited phrase. The conclusion 
will be luminous ; we must try to make it dashing. Go spin, you 
jade, go spin. Have a good deal to do between-hands, in sorting up 
the newly arrived accession of books. 

I need not have exulted so soon in having attained ease and 
quiet. I am robbed of both with a vengeance. A letter from Lock- 
hart, with one enclosed from Sophia, announces the medical people 
think the child is visibly losing strength, that its walking becomes 
more difficult, and, in short, that the spine seems visibly affected. 
They recommend tepid baths in sea-water, so Sophia has gone down 
to Brighton, leaving Lockhart in town, who is to visit her once a 
week. Here is my worst augury verified.^ The bitterness of this 
probably impending calamity is extreme. The child was almost too 
good for this world ; beautiful in features ; and, though spoiled by 
every one, having one of the sweetest tempers, as well as the quick- 
est intellect I ever saw ; a sense of humour quite extraordinary in a 
child, and, owing to the general notice which was taken of him, a 
great deal more information than suited his years. He was born in 
the eighth month, and such children are never strong — seldom long- 
lived. I look on this side and that, and see nothing but protracted 
misery, a crippled frame, and decayed constitution, occupying the 
attention of his parents for years, and dying at the end of that period, 
when their hearts were turned on him ; or the poor child may die 
before Sophia's confinement, and that may again be a dangerous and 
bad affair ; or she may, by increase of attention to him, injure her 
own health. In short, to trace into how many branches such a mis- 
ery may flow is impossible. The poor dear love had so often a slow 
fever, that when it pressed its little lips to mine, I always foreboded 
to my own heart what all I fear are now aware of. 

Lockhart writes me that Croker is the author of the Letters in 
the Courier against Malachi, and that Canning is to make another 
attack on me in the House of Commons.^ These thinofs would make 



1 Published as far back as 1792. An appre- averred Uiat uot many years ago they would 

ciative criticism on Mrs. Smith's works will be have subjected the author to condign punish- 

found in Scott's Miscellaneous Prose Works, ment. 

vol. iv. pp. 58-70. The Chancellor of the Exchequer, however, 

^ See this Journal, 2 December last. '^^l^T^-^'l^^ ^^ ?"^ ''^^ I'^^^t," '^^ ^fi"'"" 

' of that Highland claymore though evoked from 

3 The letters of Malachi were treated by its scabbard by the incantations of the mighti- 

some members of the House of Commons as est magician of the age."— Speech ol Rt. Hon. 

incentives to rebellion, and senators gravely F. J. Robinson. 



102 JOURNAL [March 

a man proud. I will not answer, because I must show up Sir Will- 
iam Rae, and even Lord Melville, and I have done ejiough to draw 
public attention, which is all I want. Let them call me ungrateful, 
unkind, and all sorts of names, so they keep their own fingers free of 
this most threatening measure. It is very curious that each of these 
angry friends^ — Melville, Canning, and Croker — has in former days 
appealed to me in confidence against each other. 

While I smoked my cigar after dinner, my mind has been running 
into four threads of bitter fancies, or rather into three decidedly bit- 
ter, and one that is indifferent. There is the distress incumbent on 
the country by these most untimely proceedings, which I would stop 
with my life were that adequate to prevent them. 2d, there is the 
unpleasant feeling of seeing a number of valued friends pass from 
me ; that I cannot help. 3d, there is the gnawing misery about that 
sweet child and its parents. 4th, there is the necessity of pursuing 
my own labours, for which perhaps I ought to be thankful, since it 
always wrenches one's mind aside from what it must dwell on with 
pain. It is odd that the state of excitation with me rather increases 
than abates the power of labour. I must finish Woodstock well if I 
can : otherwise how the Philistines will rejoice ! 

March 18. — Slept indifferently, and under the influence of Queen 
Mab, seldom auspicious to me, dreamed of reading the tale of the 
Prince of the Black Marble Islands to little Johnnie, extended on a 
paralytic chair, and yet telling all his pretty stories about Ha-papa, 
as he calls me, and Chiefswood — and waked to think I should see 
the little darling no more, or see him as a thing that had better never 
have existed. Oh, misery ! misery ! that the best I can wish for him 
is early death, with all the wretchedness to his parents that is like to 
ensue ! I intended to have stayed at home to-day ; but Tom more 
wisely had resolved that I should w^alk, and hung about the window 
with his axe and my own in his hand till I turned out with him, and 
helped to cut some fine paling. 

March 19. — I have a most melancholy letter from Anne. Lady S., 
the faithful and true companion of my fortunes, good and bad, for 
so many years, has, but with difficulty, been prevailed on to see Dr. 
Abercrombie, and his opinion is far from favourable. Her asthmatic 
complaints are fast terminating in hydropsy, as I have long suspect- 
ed ; yet the avowal of the truth and its probable consequences are 
overwhelming. They are to stay a little longer in town to try the 
effects of a new medicine. On Wednesday they propose to return 
hither — a new affliction, where there was enough before ; yet her con- 
stitution is so good that if she will be guided by advice, things may 
be yet ameliorated. God grant it ! for really these misfortunes come 
too close upon each other. 

A letter from Croker of a very friendly tone and tenor, which I 
will answer accordingly, not failing, however, to let him know that 
if I do not reply it is not for fear of his arguments or raillery, 



1826.] JOURNAL 103 

far less from diffidence in my cause. I hope and trust it will do 
good.^ 

Maxpopple ^ and two of his boys arrived to take part of my poor 
dinner. I fear the little fellows had little more than the needful, but 
they had all I had to give them. 

I wrote a good deal to-day notwithstanding heavy thoughts. 

March 20. — Despatched proofs and copy this morning; and 
Swanston, the carpenter, coming in, I made a sort of busy idle day 
of it with altering and hanging pictures and prints, to find room for 
those which came from Edinburgh, and by dint of being on foot from 
ten to near five, put all things into apple-pie order. What strange 
beings we are ! The serious duties I have on hand cannot divert my 
mind from the most melancholy thoughts ; and yet the talking with 
these workmen, and the trifling occupation which they give me, serves 
to dissipate my attention. The truth is, I fancy that a body under 
the impulse of violent motion cannot be stopped or forced back, but 
may indirectly be urged into a different channel. In the evening I 
read, and sent off my Sheriff-Court processes. 

I have a sort of grudging to give reasons why Malachi does not 
reply to the answers which have been sent forth. I don't know — I 
am strongly tempted — but I won't. To drop the tone might seem 
mean, and perhaps to maintain it would only exasperate the quarrel, 
without producing any beneficial results, and might be considered as 
a fresh insult by my alienated friends, so on the whole I won't. 

The thing has certainly had more effect than it deserves ; and I 
suspect my Ministerial friends, if they love me less, will not hold me 
cheaper for the fight I have made. I am far from saying oderint dum 
emerint, but there is a great difference betwixt that and being a mere 
protege, a poor broken-down man, who was to be assisted when ex- 
isting circumstances, that most convenient of all apologies and hap- 
piest of all phrases, would permit. 

March 21. — Perused an attack on myself, done with as much abili- 
ty as truth, by no less a man than Joseph Hume, the night-work man 
of the House of Commons, who lives upon petty abuses, and is a very 
useful man by so doing. He has had the kindness to say that I am 
interested in keeping up the taxes ; I wish I had anything else to do 
with them than to pay them. But he lies, and is an ass, and not 
worth a man's thinking about. Joseph Hume, indeed ! — I say Joseph 
Hum, — and could add a Swiftian rhyme, but forbear. 

Busy in unpacking and repacking. I wrote five pages of Wood- 
stocky which work begins 

" To appropinque an end." ^ 

March 22. — A letter from Lord Downshire's man of business 

1 Both letters are quoted in Lockhart's Life, 2 w". Scott, Esq., afterwards of Raeburn, Sir 

vol. viii. pp. 299-305. See also CroJcer's Corre- Walter's Sheriff-substitute. 
spondence and Diaries, edited by Louis J. Jen- 
nings, 3 vols. 8vo, Lond. 1884, vol. i. pp. 315-319. 3 Hudibras.— J. g. l. 



104 ' JOURNAL [March 

about funds supposed to belong to my wife, or to the estate of my 
late brotber-in-law. The possessor of the secret wants some reward. 
If any is granted, it should be a percentage on the net sum received, 
with the condition no cure — no pay. I expect Lady S., and from 
Anne's last letter hope to find her better than the first anticipation 
led me to dread. 

Sent off proofs and copy, and shall indulge a little leisure to-day 
to collect my ideas and stretch my limbs. I am again far before the 
press. 

March 23. — Lady Scott arrived yesterday to dinner. She was 
better than I expected, but Anne, poor soul, looked very poorly, and 
had been much worried with the fatigue and discomfort of the last 
week. Lady S. takes the digitalis, and, as she thinks, with advan- 
tage, though the medicine makes her very sick. Yet, on the whole, 
things are better than my gloomy apprehensions had anticipated. 

I wrote to Lockhart and to Lord Downshire's Agent, — G. Hand- 
ley, Esq., Pentonville, London. 

Took a good brushing walk, but not till I had done a good task. 

March 24. — Sent off copy, proofs, etc. J. B. clamorous for a 
motto. 

It is foolish to encourage people to expect mottoes and such-like 
decoraments. You have no credit for success in finding them, and 
there is a disgrace in wanting them. It is like being in the habit of 
showing feats of strength, which you at length gain praise by accom- 
plishing, while some shame occurs in failure. 

March 25. — The end winds out well enough. I have almost fin- 
ished to-night ; indeed I might have done so had I been inclined, but 
I had a walk in a hurricane of snow for two hours and feel a little 
tired. Miss Margaret Ferguson came to dinner with us.^ 

March 26. — Here is a disagreeable morning, snowing and hailing, 
with gleams of bright sunshine between, and all the ground white, 
and all the air frozen. I don't like this jumbling of weather. It is 
ungenial, and gives chilblains. Besides, with its whiteness, and its 
coldness, and its glister, and its discomfort, it resembles that most 
disagreeable of all things, a vain, cold, empty, beautiful woman, who 
has neither mind nor heart, but only features like a doll. I do not 
know what is so like this disagreeable day, when the sun is so bright, 
and yet so uninfluential, that 

" One may gaze upon its beams 
Till he is starved with cold." 

No matter, it will serve as well as another day to finish Woodstock. 
Walked out to the lake, and coquetted with this disagreeable weather, 

1 One of Sir Walter's kindly ^^ weird sisters''^ 1818. Miss Margaret has been described as ex- 

and neighbours, daughters of Professor Fergu- tremely like her brother Sir Adam in the turn 

son. They had ocQupied the house at Toftfleld of thought and of humour.— See Life, vol. vi. 

(on which Scott at the ladies' request bestowed p. 322. 
the name of Huntly Burn) from the spring of 



1826.] JOURNAL 105 

whereby I catcli chilblains in my fingers and cold in my bead. Fed 
the swans. 

Finished Woodstock, however, cu7n tota sequela of title-page, intro- 
duction, etc., and so, as Dame Fortune says in Quevedo, 

" Go wheel, and may the devil drive thee." ^ 

March 21, — Another bright cold day. I answered two modest 
requests from widow ladies. One, whom I had already assisted in 
some law business, on the footing of her having visited my mother, 
requested me to write to Mr. Peel, saying, on her authority, that her 
second son, a youth of infinite merit and accomplishment, was fit for 
any situation in a public ofiice, and that I requested he might be pro- 
vided accordingly. Another widowed dame, whose claim is having 
read Marmion and the Lady of the Lake, besides a promise to read all 
my other works — Gad, it is a rash engagement ! — demands that I shall 
either pay £200 to get her cub into some place or other, or settle him 
in a seminary of education. Really this is very much after the fash- 
ion of the husbandman of Miguel Turra's requests of Sancho when 
Governor.'^ " Have you anything else to ask, honest man ?" quoth 
Sancho. But what are the demands of an honest man to those of an 
honest woman, and she a widow to boot ? I do believe your desti- 
tute widow, especially if she hath a charge of children, and one 
or two fit for patronage, is one of the most impudent animals liv- 
ing. 

Went to Galashiels and settled the dispute about Sandie's wall. 

March 28. — We have now been in solitude for some time — myself 
nearly totally so, excepting at meals, or on a call as yesterday from 
Henry and William Scott of Harden. One is tempted to ask himself, 
knocking at the door of his own heart. Do you love this extreme lone- 
liness ? I can answer conscientiously, / do. The love of solitude was 
with me a passion of early youth ; when in my teens, I used to fly 
from company to indulge in visions and airy castles of my own, the 
disposal of ideal wealth, and the exercise of imaginary power. This 
feeling prevailed even till I was eighteen, when love and ambition 
awakening with other passions threw me more into society, from 
which I have, however, at times withdrawn myself, and have been 
always even glad to do so. I have risen from a feast satiated ; and 
unless it be one or two persons of very strong intellect, or whose 
spirits and good-humour amuse me, I wish neither to see the high, 
the low, nor the middling class of society. This is a feeling without 
the least tinge of misanthropy, which I always consider as a kind of 
blasphemy of a shocking description. If God bears with the very 
worst of us, we may surely endure each other. If thrown into socie- 
ty, I always have, and always will endeavour to bring pleasure "with 

1 Fortune in her Wits, and the Hour of all 2 2)on Quixote, Pt. 11. cap. 47, 

Men, Quevedo' s Works, Edin. 1798, vol. iii. p. 107. 



106 JOURNAL [March, 1826. 

me, at least to show willingness to please. But for all this " I had 
rather live alone," and I wish my appointment, so convenient other- 
wise, did not require my going to Edinburgh. But this must be, and 
in my little lodging 1 will be lonely enough. 

Had a very kind letter from Croker disowning the least idea of 
personal attack in his answer to Malachi. 

Reading at intervals a novel called Granhy ; one of that very diffi- 
cult class which aspires to describe the actual current of society, 
whose colours are so evanescent that it is difficult to fix them on the 
canvas. It is well written, but over-laboured — too much attempt to 
put the reader exactly up to the thoughts and sentiments of the par- 
ties. The w^omen do this better : Edgeworth, Ferrier, Austen have all 
had their portraits of real society, far superior to anything man, vain 
man, has produced of the like nature.^ 

March 29. — Worked in the morning. Had two visits from Colo- 
nels Russell and Ferguson. Walked from one till half-past four. A 
fine, flashy, disagreeable day ; snow-clouds sweeping past among sun- 
shine, driving down the valley, and whitening the country behind 
them. 

Mr. Gibson came suddenly in after dinner. Brought very indiffer- 
ent news from Constable's house. It is not now hoped that they will 
pay above three or four shillings in the pound. Robinson supposed 
not to be much better. 

Mr. Gr. goes to London immediately, and is to sell WoodstocJc to 
Robinson if he can, otherwise to those who will, John Murray, etc. 
This work may fail, perhaps, though better than some of its prede- 
cessors. If so, we must try some new manner. 1 think I could catch 
the dogs yet. 

A beautiful and perfect lunar rainbow to-night. 

March 30. — Mr. Gibson looks unwell, and complains of cold — bit- 
ter bad weather for his travelling, and he looks but frail. 

These indifferent news he brought me affect me but to a little de- 
gree. It is being too confident to hope to ensure success in the long 
series of successive struggles which lie before me. But somehow, I 
do fully entertain the hope of doing a good deal. 

March 31. — 

*' He walked and wrote poor soul, what then ? 
Why then, he wrote and walked again." 

But I am begun Nap. Bon. again, which is always a change, because 
it gives a good deal of reading and research, whereas Woodstock and 
such like, being extempore from my mother-wit, is a sort of spinning 
of the brains, of which a man tires. The weather seems milder to- 
day. 

1 Granhy was written by a young man, Thos. First Earl of Clarendon, 3 vols. 8vo, 1837-38. 
H. Lister, some years afterwards known as the Mr. Lister died in his Alst year in 1842. 
author of The Life and Administration of the 



APRIL 

Apiil 1. — Ex uno die disce omnes. Rose at seven or sooner, stud- 
ied, and wrote till breakfast with Anne, about a quarter before ten. 
Lady Scott seldom able to rise till twelve or one. Then I write or 
study again till one. At that hour to-day I drove to Huntly Burn, 
and walked home by one of the hundred and one pleasing paths which 
I have made through the woods I have planted — now chatting with 
Tom Purdie, who carries my plaid, and speaks when he pleases, tell- 
ing long stories of hits and misses in shooting twenty years back — 
sometimes chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy — and sometimes 
attending to the humours of two curious little terriers of the Dandie 
Dinmont breed, together with a noble wolf-hound puppy which Glen- 
garry has given me to replace Maida. This brings me down to the 
very moment I do tell — the rest is prophetic. I will feel sleepy when 
this book is locked, and perhaps sleep until Dalgleish brings the din- 
ner summons. Then I will have a chat with Lady S. and Anne ; 
some broth or soup, a slice of plain meat — and man's chief business, 
in Dr. Johnson's estimation, is briefly despatched. Half an hour with 
my family, and half an hour's coquetting with a cigar, a tumbler of 
weak whisky and water, and a novel perhaps, lead on to tea, which 
sometimes consumes another half hour of chat ; then write and read 
in my own room till ten o'clock at night ; a little bread and then a 
glass of porter, and to bed. 

And this, very rarely varied by a visit from some one, is the tenor 
of my daily life — and a very pleasant one indeed, were it not for ap- 
prehensions about Lady S. and poor Johnnie Hugh. The former will, 
1 think, do well — for the latter — I fear — I fear — 

April 2. — I am in a wayward mood this morning. I received 
yesterday the last proof-sheets of Woodstock, and I ought to correct 
them. Now, this ought sounds as -like as possible to must, and must 
I cannot abide. I would go to Prester John's country of free good- 
will, sooner than I would must it to Edinburgh. Yet this is all folly, 
and silly folly too ; and so must shall be for once obeyed after I 
have thus written myself out of my aversion to its peremptory sound. 
Corrected the said proofs till twelve o'clock — when I think I will 
treat resolution, not to a dram, as the drunken fellow said after he 
had passed the dram-shop, but to a walk, the rather that my eyesight 
is somewhat uncertain and wavering. I think it must be from the 
stomach. The whole page waltzes before my eyes. J. B. writes 



108 JOURNAL [April 

gloomily about Woodstock ; but commends the conclusion. I think 
he is right. Besides, my manner is nearly caught, and, like Captain 
BobadiV I have taught nearly a hundred gentlemen to fence very 
nearly, if not altogether, as well as myself. I will strike out some- 
thing new. 

April 3. — I have from Ballantyne and Gibson the extraordinary 
and gratifying news that Woodstock is sold for £8228 in all, ready 
money — a matchless sum for less than three months' work.^ If Na- 
poleon does as well, or near it, it will put the trust affairs in high 
flourish. Four or five years of leisure and industry would, with [such] 
success, amply replace my losses, and put me on a steadier footing 
than ever. I have a curious fancy : I will go set two or three acorns, 
and judge by their success in growing whether I will succeed in clear- 
ing my way or not. I have a little toothache keeps me from working 
much to-day, besides I sent off, per Blucher, copy for Napoleon^ as 
well as the d d proofs. 

A blank forenoon ! But how could I help it, Madam Duty ? I 
was not lazy ; on my soul I w^as not. I did not cry for half holiday 
for the sale of Woodstock. But in came Colonel Ferguson with Mrs. 
Stewart of Blackhill, or hall, or something, and I must show her the 
garden, pictures, etc. This lasts till one ; and just as they are at 
their lunch, and about to go off, guard is relieved by the Laird and 
Lady Harden, and Miss Eliza Scott — and my dear Chief, whom I love 
very much, though a little obsidional or so, remains till three. That 
same crown, composed of the grass which grew on the walls of be- 
sieged places, should be offered to visitors who stay above an hour in 
any eident^ person's house. Wrote letters this evening. 

April 4. — Wrote two pages in the morning. Then went to Ashe- 
stiel in the sociable, with Colonel Ferguson. Found my cousin Rus- 
sell settled kindly to his gardening, and his projects. • He seems to 
have brought home with him the enviable talent of being inter- 
ested and happy in his own place. Ashestiel looks worst, I think, at 
this period of the year ; but is a beautiful place in summer, where I 
passed nine happy years. Did I ever pass unhappy years anywhere ? 
None that I remember, save those at the High School, which I thor- 
oughly detested on account of the confinement. I disliked serving 
in my father's ofiSce, too, from the same hatred to restraint. In 
other respects, I have had unhappy days — unhappy weeks — even, on 
one or two occasions, unhappy months ; but Fortune's finger has 
never been able to play a dirge on me for a quarter of a year 
together. 

I am sorry to see the Peel-wood, and other natural coppice, decay- 
ing and abridged about Ashestiel — 

1 Ben Jonson's Evtry Man in his Humour, creditors, and that this sum includes the cost 
Act IV. Sc. 5. of printing the first edition as well as paper. — 

2 The reader will understand that the Novel j. g. l. 

was sold for behoof of James Ballantyne & Co. 's '^ Eident, i. e. eagerly diligent.— j. g. l. 



1826.] JOURNAL 109 

"The horrid plough has razed the green, 
Where once my children play'd ; 
The axe has fell'd the hawthorn screen, 
The schoolboys' summer shade." ^ 

There was a very romantic pasturage called the Cow-park, which I 
was particularly attached to, from its wild and sequestered character. 
Having been part of an old wood which had been cut down, it was 
full of copse — hazel, and oak, and all sorts of young trees, irregularly 
scattered over fine pasturage, and affording a hundred intricacies so 
delicious to the eye and the imagination. But some misjudging friend 
had cut down and cleared away without mercy, and divided the va- 
ried and sylvan scene, which was divided by a little rivulet, into the 
two most formal things in nature — a thriving plantation, many-angled 
as usual, and a park laid down in grass ; wanting therefore the rich 
graminivorous variety which Nature gives its carpet, and having in- 
stead a braird of six days' growth — lean and hungry growth too — of 
ryegrass and clover. As for the rill, it stagnates in a deep square 
ditch, which silences its prattle, and restrains its meanders with a wit- 
ness. The original scene was, of course, imprinted still deeper on 
Russell's mind than mine, and I was glad to see he was intensely 
sorry for the change. 

April 5. — Rose late in the morning, past eight, to give the cold 
and toothache time to make themselves scarce, which they have 
obligingly done. Yesterday every tooth on the right side of my head 
was absolutely waltzing. I would have drawn by the half dozen, but 
country dentists are not to be lippened to.^ To-day all is quiet, but 
a little swelling and stiffness in the jaw. Went to Chiefs wood at 
one, and marked with regret forty trees indispensably necessary for 
paling — much like drawing a tooth ; they are wanted and will never 
be better, but I am avaricious of grown trees, having so few. 

Worked a fair task ; dined, and read Clapperton's journey and 
Denham's into Bornou. Very entertaining, and less botheration 
about mineralogy, botany, and so forth, than usual. Pity Africa 
picks up so many brave men, however. Work in the evening. 

April 6. — AVrote in the morning. Went at one to Huntly Burn, 
where I had the great pleasure to hear, through a letter from Sir 
Adam, that Sophia was in' health, and Johnnie gaining strength. It 
is a fine exchange from deep and aching uncertainty on so interesting 
a subject, to the little spitfire feeling of " Well, but they might have 
taken the trouble to write " ; but so wretched a correspondent as my- 
self has not much to say, so I will just grumble sufficiently to main- 
tain the patriarchal dignity. 

I returned in time to work, and to receive a shoal of things from 
J. B. Among others, a letter from an Irish lady, who, for the heaux 
yeux^ which 1 shall never look upon, desires I will forthwith send her 

1 These lines slightly altered from Logan.— j. g. l. 2 Lippened, i.e. relied upon.— j. g. l. 



110 JOURNAL [April 

all the Waverley Novels, whicli are published, with an order to fur- 
nish her with all others in course as they appear, which she assures 
me will be an era in her life. Sh^ may find out some other epocha. 

April 7. — Made out my morning's task ; at one drove to Chiefs- 
wood, and walked home by the Rhymer's Glen, Mar's Lee, and Hax- 
ell-Cleugh. Took me three hours. The heath gets somewhat heav- 
ier for me every year — but never mind, I like it altogether as well as 
the day I could tread it best. My plantations are getting all into 
green leaf, especially the larches, if theirs may be called leaves, which 
are only a sort of hair, and from the number of birds drawn to these 
wastes, I may congratulate myself on having literally made the des- 
ert to sing. As I returned, there was, in the phraseology of that most 
precise of prigs in a white collarless coat and chapeau has, Mister 
Commissary Ramsay — " a rather dense inspissation of rain." Deil 
care. 

"Lord, who would live turmoiled in the Court, 
That might enjoy such quiet walks as these ?"^ 

Yet misfortune comes our way too. Poor Laidlaw lost a fine 
prattling child of five years old yesterday. 

It is odd enough — Iden, the Kentish Esquire, has just made the 
ejaculation which I adopted in the last page, when he kills Cade, and 
posts away up to Court to get the price set upon his head. Here is 
a letter come from Lockhart, full of Court news, and all sort of news, 
— best is his wife is well, and thinks the child gains in health. 

Lockhart erroneously supposes that I think of applying to Min- 
isters about Charles, and that notwithstanding Croker's terms of paci- 
fication I should find Malachi stick in my way. I would not make 
such an application for millions ; I think if I were to ask patronage 
it would [not] be through them, for some time at least, and I might 
have better access.^ 

April 8. — We expect a raid of folks to visit us this morning, 
whom we must have dined before our misfortunes. Save time, wine, 
and money, these misfortunes — and so far are convenient things. 
Besides, there is a dignity about them when they come only like the 
gout in its mildest shape, to authorise diet and retirement, the night- 
gown and the velvet shoe ; when the one comes to chalkstones, and 
the other to prison, though, there would be the devil. Or compare 
the effects of Sieur Gout and absolute poverty upon the stomach — 
the necessity of a bottle of laudanum in the one case, the want of a 
morsel of meat in the other. 

Laidlaw's infant, which died on Wednesday, is buried to-day. 
The people coming to visit prevent my going, and I am glad of it. I 
hate funerals — always did. There is such a mixture of mummery 

1 2 King Henry VI., Act iv. Sc. 10, slightly interest, as you might have known, lies Wind- 
varied, sor way. ' '— ^. G. l. 

2 In a letter of the same day he says — "My 



1826.] JOURNAL 111 

with real grief — the actual mourner perhaps heart-broken, and all the 
rest making solemn faces, and whispering observations on the weather 
and public news, and here and there a greedy fellow enjoying the 
cake and wine. To me it is a farce full of most tragical mirth, and I 
am not sorry (like Provost Coulter^) but glad that I shall not see my 
own. This is a most unfilial tendency of mine, for my father abso- 
lutely loved a funeral ; and as he was a man of a fine presence, and 
looked the mourner well, he was asked to every interment of distinc- 
tion. He seemed to preserve the list of a whole bead-roll of cousins, 
merely for the pleasure of being at their funerals, which he was often 
asked to superintend, and I suspect had sometimes to pay for. He 
carried me with him as often as he could to these mortuary cere- 
monies ; but feeling I was not, like him, either useful or ornamental, 
1 escaped as often as I could. 

I saw the poor child's funeral from a distance. Ah, that Dis- 
tance ! What a magician for conjuring up scenes of joy or sorrow, 
smoothing all asperities, reconciling all incongruities, veiling all ab- 
surdness, softening every coarseness, doubling every effect by the in- 
fiuence of the imagination. A Scottish wedding should be seen at a 
distance ; the gay band of the dancers just distinguished amid the el- 
derly group of the spectators, — the glass held high, and the distant 
cheers as it is swallowed, should be only a sketch, not a finished 
Dutch picture, when it becomes brutal and boorish. Scotch psal- 
mody, too, should be heard from a distance. The grunt and the 
snuffle, and the whine and the scream, should be all blended in that 
deep and distant sound, which, rising and falling like the Eolian harp, 
may have some title to be called the praise of our Maker. Even so 
the distant funeral : the few mourners on horseback, with their plaids 
wrapped around them — the father heading the procession as they en- 
ter the river, and pointing out the ford by which his darling is to be 
carried on the last long road — not one of the subordinate figures in 
discord with the general tone of the incident — seeming just accesso- 
ries, and no more — this is affecting. 

April 9. — I worked at correcting proofs in the morning, and, 
what is harder, at correcting manuscript, which fags me excessively. 
I was dead sick of it by two o'clock, the rather as my hand, revered 
" Gurnal," be it said between ourselves, gets dai]y worse. 

Lockhart's Bevieiv.^ Don't like his article on Sheridan's life. 
There is no breadth in it, no general views, the whole flung away in 
smart but party criticism. Now, no man can take more general and 
liberal views of literature than J. G-. L. But he lets himself too easily 
into that advocatism of style, which is that of a pleader, not a judge 

1 William Coulter, Lord Provost of Edin- tlemen, though doomed to the trade of a stock- 
burgh, died in oflBce, April, 1810, and was said ing- weaver, I was born with the soul ofuSkeep- 
to have been greatly consoled on his deathbed io " (Scipio). 
by the prospect of so grand a funeral as must ■ 

needs occur in his case. — Scott used to take him ^ Quarterly Review, No. 66: Lockhart's re- 

off as saying, at some public meeting, "Gen- view of Sheridan's Life. 



112 JOURNAL [April 

or a critic, and is particularly unsatisfactory to the reader. Lieut.- 
Col. Ferguson dined here. 

April 10. — Sent off proofs and copy galore before breakfast, and 
might be able to give idleness a day if I liked. But it is as well 
reading for Boney as for anything else, and I have a humour to make 
my amusement useful. Then the day is changeable, with gusts of 
wind, and I believe a start to the garden will be my best out-of- 
doors exercise. No thorough hill-expedition in this gusty weather. 

April 11. — Wrought out my task, although I have been much af- 
fected this morning by the Morbus, as I call it. Aching pain in the 
back, rendering one posture intolerable, fluttering of the heart, idle 
fears, gloomy thoughts and anxieties, which if not unfounded are at 
least bootless. 1 have been out once or twice, but am driven in by 
the rain. Mercy on us, what poor devils we are ! I shook this affec- 
tion off, however. Mr. Scrope and Col. Ferguson came to dinner, and 
we twaddled away the evenmg well enough. 

April 12. — I have finished my task this morning at half-past 
eleven — easily and early — and, I think, not amiss. I hope J. B. will 
make some great points of admiration ! ! ! — otherwise I will be disap- 
pointed. If this work answers — if it but answers, it must set us on 
our legs ; I am sure worse trumpery of mine has had a great run. 
Well, I will console myself and do my best ! But fashion changes, 
and 1 am getting old, and may become unpopular, but it is time to 
cry out when I am hurt. I remember with what great difficulty 1 
was brought to think myself something better than common,^ — and 

1 It is interesting to read what James Bal- I have not read it. Papa says there's nothing 
lantyne has recorded on this subject. — "Sir so bad for young girls as reading bad poetry.' 
Walter at all times laboured under the stran- Yet he could not be said to be hostile to com- 
gest delusion as to the merits of his own works. pliments in the abstract — nothing was so easy 
On this score he was not only inaccessible to as to flatter him about a farm or a field, and 
compliments, but even insensible to the truth; his manner on such an occasion plainly showed 
in fact, at all times, he hated to talk of any of that he was really open to such a compliment, 
his productions; as, for instance, he greatly and liked it. In fact, I can recall only one in- 
preferred Mrs. Shelley's Frankenstein to any stance in which he was fairly cheated into 
of his own romances. I remember one day, pleasure by a tribute paid to his literary merit, 
when Mr. Erskine and I were dining with him, and it was a striking one. Somewhere betwixt 
either immediately before or immediately after two and three years ago I Avas dining at the 
the publication of one of the best of the latter, Rev. Dr. Brunton's, with a large and accom- 
and were giving it the high praise we thought plished party, of whom Dr. Chalmers was one. 
it deserved, he asked us abruptly whether we Theconversation turned upon Sir Walter Scott's 
had read Frankenstein. AVe answered that we romances generally, and the course of it led me 
had not. 'Ah,' he said, 'have patience, read very shortly afterwards to call on Sir Walter, 
Frankenstein, and you will be better able to and address him as follows— I knew the task 

judge of .' You will easily judge of the was a bold one, but I thought I saw that I 

disappointment thus prepared for us. When should get well through it — 'Well, Sir Walter,' 
I ventured, as I sometimes did, to press him I said, 'I was dining yesterday, where your 
on the score of the reputation he had gained, works became the subject of very copious con- 
he merely asked, as if he determined to be versation.' His countenance immediately be- 
done with the discussion, 'Why, what is the came overcast— and his answer was, 'Well, I 
value of a reputation which probably will not think I must say your party might have been 
last above one or two generations?' One morn- better employed.' 'I knew it would be your 
ing, I recollect, I went into his library, shortly answer,'— the conversation continued,— • nor 
after the publication of the Lady of the Lake, would I have mentioned it, but that Dr. Chal- 
and finding Miss Scott there, who was then a mers was present, and was by far the most 
very young girl, I asked her, 'Well, Miss So- decided in his expressions of pleasure and ad- 
phia, how do you like the Lady of the Lake, miration of any of the party.' This instantly 
with which everybody is so much enchanted ?' roused him to the most vivid animation. ' Dr. 
Her answer was, with affecting simplicity, 'Oh, Chalmers?' he repeated; 'that throws new 



1826.] JOURNAL 113 

now I will not in mere faintness of heart give up good hopes. So 
Fortune protect the bold. I have finished the whole introductory 
sketch of the Revolution — too long for an introduction. But I think 
I may now go to my solitary walk. 

April 13. — On my return from my walk yesterday I learnt with 
great concern the death of my old friend, Sir Alexander Don. He 
cannot have been above six - or seven - and - forty. Without being 
much together, we had, considering our different habits, lived in much 
friendship, and I sincerely regret his death. His habits were those 
of a gay man, much connected with the turf ; but he possessed strong 
natural parts, and in particular few men could speak better in public 
when he chose. He had tact, wit, power of sarcasm, and that inde- 
scribable something which marks the gentleman. His manners in 
society were extremely pleasing, and as he had a taste for literature 
and the fine arts, there were few more pleasant companions, besides 
being a highly-spirited, steady, and honourable man. His indolence 
prevented his turning these good parts towards acquiring the distinc- 
tion he might have attained. He was among the detenus whom Bo- 
naparte's iniquitous commands confined so long in France ; ^ and com- 
ing there into possession of a large estate in right of his mother, the 
heiress of the Glencairn family, he had the means of being very ex- 
pensive, and probably then acquired those gay habits which rendered 
him averse to serious business. Being our member for Roxburgh- 
shire, his death will make a stir amongst us. I prophesy Harden" 
will be here to talk about starting his son Henry. 

Accordingly the Laird and Lady called. I exhorted him to write 
to Lord Montagu^ instantly. I do not see what they can do better, 
and unless some pickthank intervene to insinuate certain irritating 
suspicions, I suppose Lord M. will make no objection. There can be 
no objection to Henry Scott for birth, fortune, or political principle ; 
and I do not see w^here we could get a better representative. 

April 14. — Wrote to Lord M. last night. I hope they will keep 
the peace in the county. I am sure it would be to me a most dis- 
tressing thing if Buccleuch and Harden were to pull different ways, 
being so intimate with both families. 

I did not write much yesterday, not above two pages and a half. 
I have begun Boney, though, and c'est toujours quelque chose. This 
morning I sent off proofs and manuscript. Had a letter from the 
famous Denis Davidoff, the Black Captain, whose abilities as a parti- 

light on the subject — to have produced any of Ardkinglas' Memoirs, 2 vols. 8vo, London, 

effect upon the mind ot such a man as Dr. 1832, vol. ii. chaps. 7 and 8. 
Chalmers is indeed something to be proud of. 

Dr. Chalmers is a man of the truest genius. I 2 Hugh Scott of Harden, afterwards (in 1835) 

will thank you to repeat all you can recollect Lord Polwarth — succeeded by his son Henry, 

that he said on the subject.' I did so accord- in 1841. 

ingly, and I can recall no other similar in- ^ Henry Jas. Scott, who succeeded to the 

stance."— James Ballantyne^s MS. Barony of Montagu on the demise of his grand- 

1 For the life led by many of the detenus in father, the Duke of Montagu, was the son of 

France before 1814, and for anecdotes regard- Henry, 3d Duke of Buccleuch. At Lord M.'s 

ing Sir Alexander Don, see Sir James Campbell death in 1845 the Barony of Montagu expired. 



114 JOURNAL [April 

san were so much distinguished during the retreat from Moscow. If I 
can but wheedle him out of a few anecdotes, it would be a great haul. 

A kind letter from Colin Mack[enzie] ; he thinks the Ministry 
will not push the measure against Scotland. I fear they will ; there 
is usually an obstinacy in weakness. But I will think no more about 
it. Time draws on. I have been here a month. Another month 
carries me to be a hermit in the city instead of the country. I could 
scarce think I had been here a week. I wish I was able, even at 
great loss, to retire from Edinburgh entirely. Here is no bile, no 
visits, no routine, and yet on the whole, things are as well perhaps as 
they are. 

April 15. — Received last night letters from Sir John Scott Doug- 
las, and from that daintiest of Dandies, Sir William Elliot of Stobs, 
canvassing for the county. Young Harry's^ the lad for me. But 
will he be the lad for Lord Montagu ? — there is the point. I should 
have given him a hint to attend to Edgerston. Perhaps being at 
Minto, and not there, may give offence, and a bad report from that 
quarter would play the devil. It is rather too late to go down and 
tell them this, and, to say truth, I don't like the air of making myself 
busy in the matter. 

Poor Sir Alexander Don died of a disease in the heart ; the body 
was opened, which was very right. Odd enough, too, to have a man, 
probably a friend two days before, slashing at one's heart as if it 
were a bullock's. I had a letter yesterday from John Gibson. The 
House of Longman and Co. guarantee the sale [of Woodstock'] to 
Hurst, and take the work, if Hurst and Robinson (as is to be feared) 
can make no play. 

Also I made up what was due of my task both for 13th and 14th. 
So hey for a Swiftianism — 

"I loll in my chair, 
And around me I stare 
With a critical air, 
Like a calf at a fair; 
And, say I, Mrs. Duty, 
Good-morrow to your beauty, 
I kiss your sweet shoe-tie, 
And hope I can suit ye." 

Fair words butter no parsnips, says Duty ; don't keep talking 
then, but get to your work again. Here is a day's task before you 
— the siege of Toulon. Call you that a task ? d — me, I '11 write it as 
fast as Boney carried it on. 

April 16. — I am now far ahead with Nap. I wrote a little this 
morning, but this forenoon I must write letters, a task in which I am 
far behind. 

"Heaven sure sent letters for some wretch's plague." ^ 

I Henry Scott, afterwards Lord Polwarth. 2 slightly altered from Pope's Eloisa to Ab^ 



1826.J Journal 115 

Lady Scott seems to make no way, yet can scarce be said to lose 
any. She suffers much occasionally, especially during the night. 
Sleeps a great deal when at ease ; all symptoms announce water upon 
the chest. A sad prospect. 

In the evening a despatch from Lord Melville, written with all the 
familiarity of former times, desiring me to ride down and press Mr. 
Scott of Harden to let Henry stand, and this in Lord Montagu's 
name as well as his own, so that the two propositions cross each 
other on the road, and Henry is as much desired by the Buccleuch 
interest as he desires their support. 

Jedburgh, April 17. — Came over to Jedburgh this morning, to 
breakfast with my good old friend Mr. Shortreed, and had my usual 
warm reception. Lord Gillies held the Circuit Court, and there was 
no criminal trial for any offence whatsoever. I have attended these 
circuits with tolerable regularity since 1792, and though there is sel- 
dom much of importance to be done, yet I never remember before 
the Porteous roir being quite blank. The judge was presented with 
a pair of white gloves, in consideration of its being a maiden circuit. 
Harden came over and talked about his son's preferment, naturally 
much pleased. 

Received £100 from John Lockhart, for review of Pepys ;* but 
this is by far too much ; £50 is plenty. Still I must impeticos the 
gratility for the present,^ — for Whitsunday will find me only with £300 
in hand, unless Blackwood settles a few scores of poimds for Malachi. 

Wrote a great many letters. Dined with the Judge, where I met 
the disappointed candidate. Sir John Scott Douglas, who took my ex- 
cuse like a gentleman. Sir William Elliot, on the other hand, was, 
being a fine man, very much out of sorts, that having got his own con- 
sent, he could not get that of the county. He showed none of this, 
however, to me. 

April 18. — This morning I go down to Kelso from Jedburgh to 
poor Don's funeral. It is, I suppose, forty years since I saw him 
first. I was staying at Sydenham, a lad of fourteen, or by 'r Lady 
some sixteen ; and he, a boy of six or seven, was brought to visit me 
on a pony, a groom holding the leading rein — and now, I, an old grey 
man, am going to lay him in his grave. Sad work. I detest funerals ; 
there is always a want of consistency ; it is a tragedy played by 
strolling performers, who are more likely to make you laugh than 
cry. No chance of my being made to laugh to-day. The very road 
I go is a road of grave recollections. Must write to Charles serious- 
ly on the choice of his profession, and I will do it now. 

1 The Catalogue of Criminals brought before Jamieson suggests that the word may have 

the Circuit Courts at one time was termed in come from "Porteous" as originally applied to 

Scotland the Portuous Roll. The name appears a Breviary, or portable book of prayers, which 

to have been derived from the practice in early might easily be transferred to a portable roll 

times of delivering to the judges lists of Grim- of indictments. 

jnals for Trials in PoWm, or in the gateway as ,^ . i Ty • xt /.^ t> , t^- 

they entered the various towns on their circuit ' Quarterly Review, No. 66, Pepys' Diary. 

ayres.— Chambers's Book of Scotland, p. 310. ^ Twelfth Night, Act ii. Sc. 3, 



116 JOURNAL [April 

[Abbotsford,'] April 19. — Returned last night from the house of 
death and mourning to my own, now the habitation of sickness and 
anxious apprehension. Found Lady S. had tried the foxglove in 
quantity, till it made her so sick she was forced to desist. The re- 
sult cannot yet be judged. AYrote to Mrs. Thomas Scott to beg her 
to let her daughter Anne, an uncommonly, sensible, steady, and sweet- 
tempered girl, come and stay with us a season in our distress, who I 
trust will come forthwith. 

Two melancholy things. Last night I left my pallet in our fam- 
ily apartment, to make way for a female attendant, and removed to a 
dressing-room adjoining, w^hen to return, or whether ever, God only 
can tell. Also my servant cut my hair, which used to be poor Char- 
lotte's personal task. I hope she will not observe it. 

The funeral yesterday was very mournful ; about fifty persons 
present, and all seemed affected. The domestics in particular were 
very much so. Sir Alexander was a kind, though an exact master. 
It was melancholy to see those apartments, where I have so often 
seen him play the graceful and kind landlord filled with those who 
were to carry him to his long home. 

There was very little talk of the election, at least till the funeral 
was over. 

April 20. — Lady Scott's health in the same harassing state of un- 
certainty, yet on my side with more of hope than I had two days since. 

Another death ; Thomas Riddell, younger of Camiston, Sergeant- 
Major of the Edinburgh Troop in the sunny days of our yeomanry, 
and a very good fellow. 

The day was so tempting that I went out with Tom Purdie to cut 
some trees, the rather that my task was very well advanced. He led 
me into the wood, as the blind King of Bohemia was led by his four 
knights into the thick of the battle at Agincourt or Crecy,' and then, 
like the old King, " I struck good strokes more than one," w^hich is 
manly exercise. 

April 21. — This day I entertained more flattering hopes of Lady 
Scott's health than late events permitted. I went down to Mertoun 
with Colonel Ferguson, who returned to dine here, which consumed 
time so much that I made a short day's work. 

Had the grief to find Lady Scott had insisted on coming down- 
stairs and was the worse of it. Also a letter from Lockhart, giving 
a poor account of the infant. God help us ! earth cannot. 

April 22. — Lady Scott continues very poorly. Better news of 
the child. 

Wrought a good deal to-day, rather correcting sheets and acquir- 
ing information than actually composing, which is the least toilsome 
of the three. 

J. G. L. kindly points out some solecisms in my style, as " amid " 

1 See Froissarfs account of the Battle of Crecy, Bk. i. cap. 129. 



1826.] JOURNAL 117 

for " amidst," " scarce " for " scarcely." " Whose," he says, is the 
proper genitive of " which " only at such times as " which " retains its 
quality of impersonification. Well ! I will try to remember all this, 
but after all I write grammar as I speak, to make my meaning known, 
and a solecism in point of composition, like a Scotch word in speak- 
ing, is indifferent to me. I never learned grammar ; and not only 
Sir Hugh Evans but even Mrs. Quickly might puzzle me about Giney's 
case and horum harum horum.^ I believe the Bailiff in The Good- 
natured Man is not far wrong when he says, " One man has one 
way of expressing himself, and another another, and that is all the 
difference between them."^ Went to Huntly Burn to-day and 
looked at the Colonel's projected approach. I am sure if the kind 
heart can please himself he will please me. 

April 23. — A glorious day, bright and brilliant, and, I fancy, mild. 
Lady Scott is certainly better, and has promised not to attempt quit- 
ting her room. 

Henry Scott has been here, and his canvass cames on like a moor 
burning. 

April 24. — Good news from Brighton. Sophia is confined ; both 
she and her baby are doing well, and the child's name is announced 
to be Walter — a favourite name in our family, and I trust of no bad 
omen. Yet it is no charm for life. Of my father's family I was the 
second Walter, if not the third. I am glad the name came my way, 
for it was borne by my father, great-grandfather, and great -great- 
grandfather ; also by the grandsire of that last-named venerable per- 
son who was the first laird of Raeburn. 

Hurst and Robinson, the Yorkshire tykes, have failed after all 
their swaggering, and Longman and Co. take Woodstoclc. But if 
Woodstock and Napoleon take with the public I shall care little about 
their insolvency, and if they do not, I don't think their solvency 
would have lasted long. Constable is sorely broken down. 

"Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart 
That's sorry yet for thee."' 

His conduct has not been what I deserved at his hand, but, I believe 
that, walking blindfold himself, he misled me without malice pre- 
pense. It is best to think so at least, unless the contrary be demon- 
strated. To nourish angry passions against a man whom I really 
liked would be to lay a blister on my own heart. 

A'pril 25. — Having fallen behind on the 23d, I wrought pretty 
hard yesterday ; but I had so much reading, and so many proofs to 
correct, that I did not get over the daily task, so am still a little be- 
hind, which I shall soon make up. I have got Nap.^ d — n him, into 



1 Merry Wives of Windsor, Act iv. Sc. 1. 3 King Lear, Act iii. Sc. 2. 

8 See Goldsmith's Comedy, Act in. 



118 JOURNAL [April 

Italy, where with bad eyes and obscure maps, I have a little difficulty 
in tracing out his victorious chess-play. 

Lady Scott was better yesterday, certainly better, and was sound 
asleep when I looked in this morning. Walked in the afternoon. I 
looked at a hooded crow building in the thicket with great pleasure. 
It is a shorter date than my neighbour Torwoodlee^ thought of, when 
he told me, as I was bragging a little of my plantations, that it would 
be long ere crows built in them. 

April 26. — Letters from Walter and Lochkarts ; all well and do- 
ing well. Lady S. continues better, so the clouds are breaking up. J 
made a good day's work yesterday, and sent off proofs, letters, and 
copy this morning ; so, if this fine day holds good, I will take a drive 
at one. 

There is an operation called putting to rights — Scottice, redding 
up — which puts me into a fever. I always leave any attempt at it 
half executed, and so am worse off than before, and have only em- 
broiled the fray. Then my long back aches with stooping into the 
low drawers of old cabinets, and my neck is strained with staring up 
to their attics. Then you are sure never to get the thing you want. 
I am certain they creep about and hide themselves. Tom Moore^ 
gave us the insurrection of the papers. That was open war, but this 
is a system of privy plot and conspiracy, by which those you seek 
creep out of the way, and those you are not wanting perk themselves 
in your face again and again, until at last you throw them into some 
corner in a passion, and then they are the objects of research in their 
turn. I have read in a French Eastern tale of an enchanted person 
called Lliomme qui cherche, a sort of " Sir Guy the Seeker," always 
employed in collecting the beads of a chaplet, which, by dint of gram- 
arye, always dispersed themselves when he was about to fix the last 
upon the string. It was an awful doom ; transmogrification into the 
Laidleyworm of Spindlestaneheugh^ would have been a blessing in 
comparison. Now, the explanation of all this is, that I have been all 
this morning seeking a parcel of sticks of sealing wax which I brought 
from Edinburgh, and the ^'■Weel Brandt and Vast houd^^^ has either 
melted without the agency of fire or barricaded itself within the 
drawers of some cabinet, which has declared itself in a state of insur- 
rection. A choice subject for a journal, but what better have I? 

I did not quite finish my task to-day, nay, I only did one third of 
it. It is so difficult to consult the maps after candles are lighted, or 
to read the Moniteur, that I was obliged to adjourn. The task is 
three pages or leaves of my close writing per diem, which corresponds 

1 James Pringle, Convener of Selkirkshire country legends were published by M. G. Lewis 
for more than half a century. For an account and Mr. Lambe. of Norham. *' Sir Guy," in 
of the Pringles of Torwoodlee, see Mr. Craig the Tales of Wonder, and "The Worm." in Rit- 
Brown's ffis<o?-y o/^eZ&irA:sWre, vol. i. pp. 459- son's Northumberland Garland. — See Child's 
470. English and Scottish Ballads, 8 vols. 12mo, Bos- 

2 '■^The Insurrection o/the Papers— a Dream." ton, 1857, vol. i. p. 386. 

The Twopenny Post-Bag, 12rao, London, 1812. * Fyn Segellak wel brand en vast houd : old 

3 The well-known ballads on these two North- brand used by sealing-wax makers. 



1826.] JOURNAL 119 

to about a sheet (16 pages) of Woodstock, and about 12 of Bonaparte^ 
which is a more comprehensive page. But I was not idle neither, and 
wrote some Balaam^ for Lockhart's Review. Then I was in hand a 
leaf above the tale, so I am now only a leaf behind it. 

April 27. — This is one of those abominable April mornings which 
deserve the name of Soms Cullotides, as being cold, beggarly, coarse, 
savage, and intrusive. The earth lies an inch deep with snow, to the 
confusion of the worshippers of Flora. By the way, Bogie attended 
his professional dinner and show of flowers at Jedburgh yesterday. 
Here is a beautiful sequence to their Jioralia. It is this uncertainty 
in April, and the descent of snow and frost when one thinks them- 
selves clear of them, and that after fine encouraging weather, that de- 
stroys our Scottish fruits and flowers. It is as imprudent to attach 
yourself to flowers in Scotland as to a caged bird ; the cat, sooner or 
later, snaps up one, and these — Sans Cullotides — annihilate the other. 
It was but yesterday I was admiring the glorious flourish of the pears 
and apricots, and now hath come the killing frost.'* 

But let it freeze without, we are comfortable within. Lady Scott 
continues better, and, we may hope, has got the turn of her disease. 

April 28. — Beautiful morning, but ice as thick as pasteboard, too 
surely showing that the night has made good yesterday's threat. Dalg- 
leish, with his most melancholy face, conveys the most doleful tidings 
from Bogie. But servants are fond of the woful, it gives such conse- 
quence to the person who communicates bad news. 

Wrote two letters and read till twelve, and then for a stout walk 
among the plantations till four. Found Lady Scott obviously better, 
I think, than I had left her in the morning. In walking I am like a 
spavined horse, and heat as I get on. The flourishing plantations 
around me are a great argument for me to labour hard. " Barharus 
has segetes .^" I will write my finger-ends off first. 

April 29. — I was always afraid, privately, that Woodstock would 
not stand the test. In that case my fate would have been that of 
the unfortunate minstrel trumpeter Maclean at the battle of Sheriff- 
muir — 

"By misfortune he happened to fa', man; 
By saving his neck 
His trumpet did break, 
And came off without music at a', man." ' 

J. B. corroborated my doubts by his raven-like croaking and criticis- 
ing ; but the good fellow writes me this morning that he is written 
down an ass, and that the approbation is unanimous. It is but Edin- 
burgh, to be sure ; but Edinburgh has always been a harder critic 
than London. It is a great mercy, and gives encouragement for fut- 

' Balaam is the cant name in a Newspaper of the day leaves an awkward space that must 

Oflace for asinine paragraphs, about monstrous be filled up somehow.— j. g. l. 

productions of Nature and the like, kept stand- 2 Henry VIII. Act in. So. 2. 

iug in type to be used whenever the real news 3 Ritson, Scottish Songs^ xvi. 



120 JOURNAL [April, 182G. 

ure exertion. Having written two leaves this morning, I think I will 
turn out to ray walk, though two hours earlier than usual. Egad, I 
could not persuade myself that it was such bad Balaam after all. 

April 30. — I corrected this morning a quantity of proofs and copy, 
and dawdled about a little, the weather of late becoming rather mild- 
er, though not much of that. Methinks Duty looks as if she were but 
half -pleased with me ; but would the Pagan bitch have me work on 
the Sunday. 



MAY 

May 1. — -I walked to-day to the western corner of the Chiefs wood 
plantation, and marked out a large additional plantation to be drawn 
along the face of the hill. It cost me some trouble to carry the 
boundaries out of the eye, for nothing is so paltry as a plantation of 
almost any extent if its whole extent lies defined to the eye. By 
availing myself of the undulations of the ground I think I have avoid- 
ed this for the present ; only when seen from the Eildon Hills the 
cranks and turns of the enclosure will seem fantastic, at least until 
the trees get high. 

This cost Tom and me three or four hours. Lieut.-Colonel Fer- 
guson joined us as we w^ent home, and dined at Abbotsford. 

My cousin, Barbara Scott of Raeburn, came here to see Lady S. 
I think she was shocked with the melancholy change. She insisted 
upon walking back to Lessudden House, making her walk 16 or 18 
miles, and though the carriage was ordered she would not enter it. 

May 2. — Yesterday was a splendid May day — to-day seems inclined 
to be soft, as we call it ; but tayit mieux. Yesterday had a twang of 
frost in it. I must get to work and finish Boaden's Life of Kemhle, 
and Kelley's Reminiscences^ for the Quarterly. 

I wrote and read for three hours, and then walked, the day being 
soft and delightful ; but alas ! all my walks are lonely from the ab- 
sence of my poor companion. She does not suffer, thank God, but 
strength must fail at last. Since Sunday there has been a gradual 
change — very gradual — but, alas ! to the worse. My hopes are al- 
most gone. But I am determined to stand this grief as I have done 
others. 

May 3. — Another fine morning. I answered a letter from Mr. 
Handley, who has taken the pains to rummage the Chancery Records 
until he has actually discovered the fund due to Lady Scott's mother, 
£12,000 ; it seems to have been invested in the estates of a Mr. Owen, 
as it appears for Madame Charpentier's benefit, but, she dying, the 
fund was lost sight of and got into Chancery, where I suppose it 
must have accumulated, but I cannot say I understand the matter ; 
at a happier moment the news would have given poor Charlotte much 
pleasure, but now — it is a day too late. 

May 4. — On visiting Lady Scott's sick-room this morning I found 
her suffering, and I doubt if she knew me. Yet, after breakfast, she 

• See Miscellaneous Prose Works, vol. xx. pp. 152-244, or Quarterly Revieiv No. 67, Kelly's Rem.' 
iniscences. 



122 JOURNAL [May 

seemed serene and composed. The worst is, she will not speak out 
about the symptoms under which she labours. Sad, sad work ; I am 
under the most melancholy apprehension, for what constitution can 
hold out under these continued and wasting attacks ? 

My niece, Anne Scott, a prudent, sensible, and kind young woman, 
arrived to-day, having come down to assist us in our distress so far as 
Cheltenham. This is a great consolation. 

May 5. — Haunted by gloomy thoughts; but I corrected proofs 
from seven to ten, and wrote from half-past ten to one. My old 
friend Sir Adam called, and took a long walk with me, which was 
charity. His gaiety rubbed me up a little. I had also a visit from the 
Laird and Lady of Harden. Henry Scott carries the county without 
opposition. 

May 6. — The same scene of hopeless (almost) and unavailing anx- 
iety. Still welcoming me with a smile, and asserting she is better. 
I fear the disease is too deeply entwined with the principles of life. 
Yet the increase of good weather, especially if it would turn more 
genial, might, I think, aid her excellent constitution. Still labouring 
at this Review^ without heart or spirits to finish it. I am a tolerable 
Stoic, but preach to myself in vain. 

" Since these things are necessities, 
Then let us meet them like necessities." * 

And so we will. 

May 7. — Hammered on at the Review till my backbone ached. 
But I believe it was a nervous affection, for a walk cured it. Sir 
Adam and the Colonel dined here. So I spent the evening as pleas- 
antly as I well could, considering I am so soon to leave my own house, 
and go like a stranger to the town of which I have been so long a 
citizen, and leave my wife lingering, without prospect of recovery, un- 
der the charge of two poor girls. Talia cogit dura necessitas. 

May 8. — I went over to the election at Jedburgh. There was a 
numerous meeting; the Whigs, who did not bring ten men to the 
meeting, of course took the whole matter under their patronage, 
which was much of a piece with the Blue Bottle drawing the car- 
riage. I tried to pull up once or twice, but quietly, having no desire 
to disturb the quiet of the election. To see the difference of modern 
times ! We had a good dinner, and excellent wine ; and I had or- 
dered my carriage at half -past seven, almost ashamed to start so soon. 
Everybody dispersed at so early an hour, however, that when Henry 
had left the chair, there was no carriage for me, and Peter proved his 
accuracy by showing me it was but a quarter-past seven. In the days 
I remember they would have kept it up till day-light ; nor do I think 
poor Don would have left the chair, before midnight. Well, there is 
a medium. Without being a veteran Vice, a grey Iniquity, like Fal- 

» 2 Hmry IV., Act ui. Sc. 1, slightly altered. 



1826.] JOURNAL 123 

staff, I think an occasional jolly bout, if not carried to excess, improved 
society ; men were put into good humour ; when the good wine did 
its good office, the jest, the song, the speech, had double effect ; men 
were happy for the night, and better friends ever after, because they 
had been so. 

May 9. — My new Liverpool neighbour, Mr. Bainbridge, breakfasts 
here to-day with some of his family. They wish to try the fishing in 
Cauldshields Loch, and [there is] promise of a fine soft morning. But 
the season is too early. 

They have had no sport accordingly after trying with Trimmers. 
Mr. Bainbridge is a good cut of John Bull — plain, sensible, and 
downright ; the maker of his own fortune, and son of his own works. 

May 10. — To-morrow I leave my home. To what scene I may 
suddenly be recalled, it wrings my heart to think. If she would but 
be guided by the medical people, and attend rigidly to their orders, 
something might be hoped, but she is impatient with the protracted 
suffering, and no wonder. Anne has a severe task to perform, but 
the as^stance of her cousin is a great comfort. Baron Weber, the 
great composer, wants me (through Lockhart) to compose something 
to be set to music by him, and sung by Miss Stephens — as if I cared 
who set or who sung any lines of mine. I have recommended in- 
stead Beaumont and Fletcher's unrivalled song in the Nice Valour : 

" Hence, all ye vain delights," etc. 

\Edinbiirg'h^'\ May 11. — 

" Der Abschiedstag ist da, 
Schwer liegt er auf den Herzen — schwer."^ 

Charlotte was unable to take leave of me, being in a sound sleep, 
after a very indifferent night. Perhaps it was as well. Emotion 
might have hurt her ; and nothing I could have expressed would have 
been worth the risk. I have foreseen, for two years and more, that 
this menaced event could not be far distant. I have seen plainly, 
within the last two months, that recovery was hopeless. And yet to 
part with the companion of twenty-nine years when so very ill — that 
I did not, could not foresee.^ It withers my heart to think of it, and 
to recollect that I can hardly hope again to seek confidence and 
counsel from that ear to which all might be safely confided. But in 
her present lethargic state, what would my attentions have availed ? 

1 [Mrs. Brown's Lodgings, No. 6 North St. s Scott had written: — "and yet to part with 
David Street.] the companion of twenty years just six," and 

2 This is the opening couplet of a German had then deleted the three words, "years just 
trooper's song, alluded to in ii/e, vol. ii. p. 13. • six," and written "nine" above them. It 
The literal translation is:— looks as if he had meant at first to refer to the 

change in his fortunes, "just six" months be- 

"The day of depftrture i. com. ; fore, and had afterwards thought it better to 

Heavy lies it on the hearts— heavy." refrain. This would account for a certain ob- 

— J. G. L. scurity of i 



124 JOURNAL [May 

and Anne has promised close and constant intelligence. I must dine 
with James Ballantyne to-day en famille. I cannot help it ; but would 
rather be at home and alone. However, I can go out too. I will not 
yield to the barren sense of hopelessness which struggles to invade 
me. I passed a pleasant day with honest J. B., which was a great re- 
lief from the black dog which would have worried me at home. We 
were quite alone. 

\Edinhurgh,'\ May 12. — Well, here I am in Arden. And I may 
say with Touchstone, " When I was at home I was in a better 
place," ^ and yet this is not by any means to be complained of. Good 
apartments, the people civil and apparently attentive. No appearance 
of smoke, and absolute warrandice against my dreaded enemies, bugs. 
I must, when there is occasion, draw to my own Bailie Nicol Jarvie's 
consolation, " One cannot carry the comforts of the Saut- Market about 
with one." Were I at ease in mind, I think the body is very well 
cared for. I have two steady servants, a man and woman, and they 
seem to set out sensibly enough. Only one lodger in the house, a Mr. 
Shandy, a clergyman ; and despite his name, said to be a quiet t)ne. 

May 13. — The projected measure against the Scottish bank-notes 
has been abandoned, the resistance being general. Malachi might 
clap his wings upon this, but, alas ! domestic anxiety has cut his 
comb. 

I think very lightly in general of praise ; it costs men nothing, 
and is usually only lip-saLve. They wish to please, and must suppose 
that flattery is the ready road to the good will of every professor of 
literature. Some praise, however, and from some people, does at once 
delight and strengthen the mind, and I insert in this place the quota- 
tion with which Ld. C. Baron Shepherd concluded a letter concerning 
me to the Chief Commissioner : " Magna etiam ilia laus et admira- 
hilis videri solet tulisse casus sapienter adversos, non fractum esse fortu- 
nd, retinuisse in rebus asperis dignitatem.^ ^ ^ I record these words, not 
as meriting the high praise they imply, but to remind me that such 
an opinion being partially entertained of me by a man of a character 
so eminent, it becomes me to make my conduct approach as much as 
possible to the standard at which he rates it. 

As I must pay back to Terry some cash in London, £170, together 
with other matters here, I have borrowed from Mr. Alexander Ballan- 
tyne the sum of £500, upon a promissory note for £512, 10s. payable 
15th November to him or his order. If God should call me before 
that time, I request my son Walter will, in reverence to my memory, 
see that Mr. Alexander Ballantyne does not suffer for having obliged 
me in a sort of exigency — he cannot afford it, and God has given my 
son the means to repay him. 

May 14. — A fair good-morrow to you, Mr. Sun, who are shining 
so brightly on these dull walls. Methinks you look as if you were 

» ^5 Tou Like It, Act ii. Sc. 4. 2 Cicero, de Oral ii. p. 346.— J. G. L. 



1826.] JOURNAL 125 

looking as briglit on the banks of the Tweed ; but look where you 
will, Sir Sun, you look upon sorrow and suffering. Hogg was here 
yesterday in danger, from having obtained an accommodation of 
£100 from Mr. Ballantyne, which he is now obliged to repay. I am 
unable to help the poor fellow, being obliged to borrow myself. But 
I long ago remonstrated against the transaction at all, and gave him 
£50 out of my pocket to avoid granting the accommodation, but it 
did no good. 

May 15. — Received the melancholy intelligence that all is over 
at Abbotsford. 

[Abhotsford,^ May 16. — She died at nine in the morning, after be- 
ing very ill for two days, — easy at last. 

I arrived here late last night. Anne is worn out, and has had 
hysterics, which returned on my arrival. Her broken accents were 
like those of a child, the language, as well as the tones, broken, but 
in the most gentle voice of submission. " Poor mamma — never re- 
turn again — gone for ever — a better place." Then, when she came 
to herself, she spoke with sense, freedom, and strength of mind, till 
her weakness returned. It would have been inexpressibly moving to 
me as a stranger — what was it then to the father and the husband ? 
For myself, I scarce know how I feel, sometimes as firm as the Bass 
Rock, sometimes as weak as the wave that breaks on it. 

I am as alert at thinking and deciding as I ever was in my life. 
Yet, when I contrast what this place now is, with what it has been 
not long since, I think my heart will break. Lonely, aged, deprived 
of my family — all but poor Anne, an impoverished and embarrassed 
man, I am deprived of the sharer of my thoughts and counsels, who 
could always talk down my sense of the calamitous apprehensions 
which break the heart that must bear them alone. Even her foibles 
were of service to me, by giving me things to think of beyond my 
weary self-reflections. 

I have seen her. The figure I beheld is, and is not, my Charlotte 
— my thirty years' companion. There is the same symmetry of form, 
though those limbs are rigid which were once so gracefully elastic — 
but that yellow masque, with pinched features, which seems to mock 
life rather than emulate it, can it be the face that was once so full of 
lively expression ? I will not look on it again. Anne thinks her little 
changed, because the latest idea she had formed of her mother is as 
she appeared under circumstances of sickness and pain. Mine go 
back to a period of comparative health. If I write long in this way, 
I shall write down my resolution, which I should rather write up, if I 
could. I wonder how I shall do with the large portion of thoughts 
which were hers for thirty years. I suspect they will be hers yet for 
a long time at least. But I will not blaze cambric and crape in the 
public eye like a disconsolate widower, that most affected of all 
characters. * 

May 17. — Last night Anne, after conversing with apparent ease, 



126 JOURNAL [May 

dropped suddenly down as she rose from the supper-table, and lay 
six or seven minutes as if dead. Clarkson, however, has no fear of 
these affections. 

May 18. — Another day, and a bright one to the external world, 
again opens on us ; the air soft, and the flowers smiling, and the 
leaves glittering. They cannot refresh her to whom mild weather 
was a natural enjoyment. Cerements of lead and of wood already 
hold her ; cold earth must have her soon. But it is not my Charlotte, 
it is not the bride of my youth, the mother of my children, that will 
be laid among the ruins of Dryburgh, which we have so often visited 
in gaiety and pastime. No, no. She is sentient and conscious of my 
emotions somewhere — somehow ; where we cannot tell ; how we can- 
not tell ; yet would I not at this moment renounce the mysterious yet 
certain hope that I shall see her in a better world, for all that this 
world can give me. The necessity of this separation, — that neces- 
sity which rendered it even a relief, — that and patience must be my 
comfort. I do not experience those paroxysms of grief which others 
do on the same occasion. I can exert myself and speak even cheer- 
fully with the poor girls. But alone, or if anything touches me — the 
choking sensation. I have been to her room : there was no voice in 
it — no stirring ; the pressure of the coffin was visible on the bed, but 
it had been removed elsewhere ; all was neat as she loved it, but all 
was calm — calm as death. I remembered the last sight of her ; she 
raised herself in bed, and tried to turn her eyes after me, and said, 
with a sort of smile, " You all have such melancholy faces." They 
were the last words I ever heard her utter, and I hurried away, for she 
did not seem quite conscious of what she said. When I returned, 
immediately [before] departing, she was in a deep sleep. It is deeper 
now. This was but seven days since. 

They are arranging the chamber of death ; that which was long 
the apartment of connubial happiness, and of whose arrangements 
(better than in richer houses) she was so proud. They are treading 
fast and thick. For weeks you could have heard a foot-fall. Oh, my 
God! 

May 19. — Anne, poor love, is ill with her exertions and agitation 
— cannot walk — and is still hysterical, though less so. I advised 
flesh-brush and tepid bath, which I think will bring her about. We 
speak freely of her whom we have lost, and mix her name with our 
ordinary conversation. This is the rule of nature. All primitive 
people speak of their dead, and I think virtuously and wisely. The 
idea of blotting the names of those who are gone out of the language 
and familiar discourse of those to whom they were dearest is one of 
the rules of ultra-civilisation which, in so many instances, strangle 
natural feeling by way of avoiding a painful sensation. The High- 
landers speak of their dead children as freely as of their living, and 
mention hoW poor Colin or Robert would have acted in such or such 
a situation. It is a generous and manly tone of feeling ; and, so far 



1826.] JOURNAL 127 

as it may be adopted without affectation or contradicting the general 
habits of society, I reckon on observing it. 

May 20. — To-night, I trust, will bring Charles or Lockhart, or 
both ; at least I must hear from them. A letter from Violet [Lock- 
hart] gave us the painful intelligence that she had not mentioned to 
Sophia the dangerous state in which her mother was. Most kindly 
meant, but certainly not so well judged. I have always thought that 
truth, even when painful, is a great duty on such occasions, and it is 
seldom that concealment is justifiable. 

Sophia's baby was christened on Sunday, 14th May, at Brighton, 
by the name of Walter Scott.* May God give him life and health to 
wear it with credit to himself and those belonging to him. Melan- 
choly to think that the next morning after this ceremony deprived 
him of so near a relation. Sent Mr. Curie £11 to remit Mrs. Bohn, 
York Street, Covent Garden, for books — I thought I had paid the 
poor woman before. 

May 21. — Our sad preparations for to-morrow continue. A let- 
ter from Lockhart; doubtful if Sophia's health or his own state of 
business will let him be here. If things permit he comes to-night. 
From Charles not a word ; but I think I may expect him. I wish to- 
morrow were over ; not that I fear it, for my nerves are pretty good, 
but it will be a day of many recollections. 

May 22. — Charles arrived last night, much affected of course. 
Anne had a return of her fainting-fits on seeing him, and again upon 
seeing Mr. Ramsay, the gentleman who performs the service.^ I heard 
him do so with the utmost propriety for my late friend, Lady Alvan- 
ley,^ the arrangement of whose funeral devolved upon me. How lit- 
tle I could guess when, where, and with respect to whom I should 
next hear those solemn words. Well, I am not apt to shrink from 
that which is my duty, merely because it is painful; but I wish this 
day over. A kind of cloud of stupidity hangs about me, as if all 
were unreal that men seem to be doing and talking about. 

May 23. — About an hour before the mournful ceremony of yes- 
terday, Walter arrived, having travelled express from Ireland on re- 
ceiving the news. He was much affected, poor fellow, and no wonder. 
Poor Charlotte nursed him, and perhaps for that reason she was ever 
partial to him. The whole scene floats as a sort of dream before me 
— the beautiful day, the grey ruins covered and hidden among clouds 
of foliage and flourish, where the grave, even in the lap of beauty, 
lay lurking and gaped for its prey. Then the grave looks, the hasty 
important bustle of men with spades and mattocks — the train of car- 

1 Walter Scott Lockhart, died at Versailles loved "Dean Ramsay," author of Eeminis- 
in 1853, and was buried in the Cemetery of cences of Scottish Life and Character. This 
Notre-Dame there. venerable Scottish gentleman was for many 

2 The Rev. Edward Bannerman Ramsay, years the delight of all who had the privilege 
A.M., St. John's College, Cambridge, incum- of knowing him. He died at the age of eighty- 
bent St. John's, Edinburgh, afterwards Dean three in his house, 23 Ainslie Place, Edinburgh, 
of the Diocese in the Scots Episcopal Church, Dec. 27th, 1872. 

^rjd still more widely known as the much- 3 See Life, vol. iv. p. 2. 



128 JOURNAL [May 

riages — the coffin containing the creature that was so long the dear- 
est on earth to me, and whom I was to consign to the very spot 
which in pleasure-parties we so frequently visited. It seems still as 
if this could not be really so. But it is so — and duty to God and to 
my children must teach me patience. 

Poor Anne has had longer fits since our arrival from Dryhurgh 
than before, but yesterday was the crisis. She desired to hear prayers 
read by Mr. Ramsay, who performed the duty in a most solemn man- 
ner. But her strength could not carry it through. She fainted be- 
fore the service was concluded.^ 

May 24. — Slept wretchedly, or rather waked wretchedly, all night, 
and was very sick and bilious in consequence, and scarce able to hold 
up my head with pain. A walk, however, with my sons did me a 
great deal of good ; indeed their society is the greatest support the 
world can afford me. Their ideas of everything are so just and hon- 
ourable, kind towards their sisters, and affectionate to me, that I must 
be grateful to God for sparing them to me, and continue to battle 
with the w^orld for their sakes, if not for my own. 

May 25., — I had sound sleep to-night, and waked with little or 
nothing of the strange, dreamy feeling which made me for some days 
feel like one bewildered in a country Avhere mist or snow has dis- 
guised those features of the landscape which are best known to him. 

Walter leaves me to-day ; he seems disposed to take interest in 
country affairs, which will be an immense resource, supposing him to 
tire of the army in a few years. Charles, he and I, went up to Ashe- 
stiel to call upon the Misses Russell, who have kindly promised to see 
Anne on Tuesday. This evening Walter left us, being anxious to re- 
turn to his wife as well as to his regiment. We expect he wall be 
here early in autumn, with his household. 

May 26. — A rough morning, and makes me think of St. George's 
Channel, which Walter must cross to-night or to-morrow to get to 
Athlone. The wdnd is almost due east, however, and the channel at 
the narrowest point between Port-Patrick and Donaghadee. His ab- 
sence is a great blank in our circle, especially, I think, to his sister 
Anne, to whom he shows invariably much kindness. But indeed 
they do so without exception each towards the other ; and in weal or 
woe have shown themselves a family of love. No persuasion could 

1 Mr. Skene has preserved the following note at the munus inane ; their presence will do her 

written on this day:— "I take the advantage much good, but I cannot think of leaving her 

of Mr. Ramsay's return to Edinburgh to an- till Monday next, nor could I do my brethren 

swer your kind letter. It would have done no much good by coming to town, having still 

good to have brought you here when I could that stunned and giddy feeling which great ca- 

not have enjoyed your company, and there lamities necessarily produce. It will soon give 

were enough friends" here to ensure everything way to my usual state of mind, and my friends 

being properly adjusted. Anne, contrary to a will not find me much difl'erent from what I 

natural weakness of temper, is quite quiet and have usually been. 

resigned to her distress, but has been visited -Mr. Ramsay, who I find is a friend of 

by many fainting fits, the effect, I am told, of yours, appears an excellent young man.— My 

weakness, over-exertion, and distress of mind. kind love to Mrs. Skene, and am always, yours 

Her brothers are both here— Walter having ar- truly, Walter Scott." 

rived from Ireland yesterday in time to assist " abbotsford, 23£i Jfay." 



1826.] JOURNAL 129 

force on Walter any of his poor mother's ornaments for his wife. He 
undid a reading-glass from the gold chain to which it was suspended, 
and agreed to give the glass to Jane, but would on no account retain 
the chain. I will go to town on Monday and resume my labours. 
Being of a grave nature, they cannot go against the general temper 
of my feelings, and in other respects the exertion, as far as I am con- 
cerned, will do me good ; besides, I must re-establish my fortune for 
the sake of the children, and of my own character. I have not lei- 
sure to indulge the disabling and discouraging thoughts that press 
on me. Were an enemy coming upon my house, would I not do my 
best to fight, although oppressed in spirits, and shall a similar de- 
spondency prevent me from mental exertion ? It shall not, by Heaven ! 
This day and to-morrow I give to the currency of the ideas which 
have of late occupied my mind, and with Monday they shall be min- 
gled at least with other thoughts and cares. Last night Charles and 
I walked late on the terrace at Kaeside, when the clouds seemed ac- 
cumulating in the wildest masses both on the Eildon Hills and other 
mountains in the distance. This rough morning reads the riddle. 

Dull, drooping, cheerless has the day been. I cared not to carry 
my own gloom to the girls, and so sate in my own room, dawdling 
with old papers, which awakened as many stings as if they had been 
the nest of fifty scorpions. Then the solitude seemed so absolute — 
my poor Charlotte would have been in the room half-a-score of times 
to see if the fire burned, and to ask a hundred kind questions. Well, 
that is over — and if it cannot be forgotten, must be remembered 
with patience. 

May 21. — A sleepless night. It is time I should be up and be doing, 
and a sleepless night sometimes furnishes good ideas. Alas ! I have 
no companion now with whom I can communicate to relieve the lone- 
liness of these watches of the night. But I must not fail myself and 
my family — and the necessity of exertion becomes apparent. I must 
try a hors cfoeuvre, something that can go on between the necessary 
intervals of Nap. Mrs. M[urray] K[eith's] Tale of the Deserter, with 
her interview with the fad's mother, may be made most affecting, but 
will hardly endure much expansion.^ The framework may be a High- 
land tour, under the guardianship of the sort of postilion, whom 
Mrs. M. K. described to me — a species of conductor who regu- 
lated the motions of his company, made their halts, and .was their 
cicerone. 

May 28. — I wrote a few pages yesterday, and then walked. I be- 
lieve the description of the old Scottish lady may do, but the change 
has been unceasingly rung upon Scottish subjects of late, and it 
strikes me that the introductory matter may be considered as an im- 
itation of Washington Irving. Yet not so neither. In short, I will 
go on, to-day make a dozen of close pages ready, and take J. B.'s ad- 

1 The Highland Widow^ Waverley Novels, vol. xii. 



130 JOURNAL ' [May 

vice. I intend tte work as an olla podrida, into whicli any species 
of narrative or discussion may be thrown. 

I wrote easily. I think the exertion has done me good. I slept 
sound last night, and at waking, as is usual with me, I found I had 
some clear views and thoughts upon the subject of this trifling work. 
I wonder if others find so strongly as I do the truth of the Latin prov- 
erb, Aurora musis arnica. If I forget a thing over-night, I am sure 
to recollect it as my eyes open in the morning. The same if I want an 
idea, or am encumbered by some diflBculty, the moment of waking 
always supplies the deficiency, or gives me courage to endure the 
alternative.^ 

May 29. — To-day I leave for Edinburgh this house of sorrow. In 
the midst of such distress, I have the great pleasure to see Anne re- 
gaining her health, and showing both patience and steadiness of 
mind. Grod continue this, for my own sake as well as hers. Much of 
my future comfort must depend upon her. 

^Edinburgh,'] May 30. — Returned to town last night with Charles, 
This morning resume ordinary habits of rising early, working in the 
morning, and attending the Court. All will come easily round. But 
it is at first as if men looked strange on me, and bit their lip when 
they wring my hand, and indicated suppressed feelings. It is natural 
this should be — undoubtedly it has been so with me. Yet it is strange 
to find one's-self resemble a cloud which darkens gaiety wherever it 
interposes its chilling shade. Will it be better when, left to my own 
feelings, I see the whole world pipe and dance around me ? I think 
it will. Thus sympathy intrudes on my private affliction. 

I finished correcting the proofs for the Quarterly ; it is but a 
flimsy article, but then the circumstances were most untoward. 

This has been a melancholy day, most melancholy. I am afraid 
poor Charles found me weeping. I do not know what other folks 
feel, but with me the hysterical passion that impels tears is of terri- 
ble violence — a sort of throttling sensation — then succeeded by a 
state of dreaming stupidity, in which I ask if my poor Charlotte can 
actually be dead. I think I feel my loss more than at the first blow. 

Poor Charles wishes to come back to study here when his term 
ends at Oxford. I can see the motive. 

May 31. — The melancholy hours of yesterday must not return. 
To encourage that dreamy state of incapacity is to resign all author- 
ity over the mind, and I have been wont to say — 

"My mind to me a kingdom is."^ 

I am rightful monarch ; and, God to aid, I will not be dethroned by 
any rebellious passion that may rear its standard against me. Such 
are morning thoughts, strong as carle-hemp — says Burns — 



1 See February 10, 1826. to bave been famous in the sixteenth century. 

2 This excellent philosophical song appears —Percy's Reliques, vol. i. 307. — j. G. l. 



1826.] JOURNAL 131 

"Come, firm Resolve, take thou the van, 
Thou stalk of carle-hemp in man." 

Charles went by the steam-boat this morning at six. We parted 
last night mournfully on both sides. Poor boy, this is his first seri- 
ous sorrow. Wrote this morning a Memorial on the Claims which 
Constable's people prefer as to the copyrights of Woodstock and JVa- 
poleon.^ 

i See June 2. 



JUNE 

June 1. — Yesterday I also finished a few trifling memoranda on a 
book called The Omen, at Blackwood's request. There is something 
in the work which pleases me, and the style is good, though the story 
is not artfully conducted. I dined yesterday in family with Skene, 
and had a visit from Lord Chief-Commissioner ; we met as mourners 
under a common calamity. There is something extremely kind in 
his disposition. 

Sir E. D[undas] offers me three days of the country next week, 
which tempts me strongly were it but the prospect of seeing Anne. 
But I think I must resist and say with Tilburina, 

" Duty, I'm all thine own." ^ 

If I do this I shall deserve a holiday about the 15th June, and I 
think it is best to wait till then. 

June 2. — A pleasant letter from Sophia, poor girl ; all doing well 
there, for which God be praised. 

I wrote a good task yesterday, five pages, which is nearly double 
the usual stint. 

I am settled that I will not go to Abbotsford till to-morrow fort- 
night. 

I might have spared myself the trouble of my self-denial, for go 
I cannot, Hamilton having a fit of gout. 

Gibson seems in high spirits on the views I have given to him on 
the nature of Constable and Co.'s claim. It amounts to this, that 
being no longer accountable as publishers, they cannot claim the char- 
acter of such, or plead upon any claim arising out of the contracts 
entered into while they held that capacity. 

June 3. — I was much disturbed this morning by bile and its con- 
sequences, and lost so much sleep that I have been rather late in ris- 
ing by way of indemnification. I must go to the map and study the 
Italian campaigns instead of scribbling. 

June 4. — I wrote a good task yesterday, and to-day a great one, 
scarce stirring from the desk the whole day, except a few minutes 
when Lady Rae called. I was glad to see my wife's old friend, with 
whom in early life we had so many liaisons. I am not sure it is 
right to work so hard ; but a man must take himself, as well as other 

1 Sheridan's Critic, Act iv. Sc. 2. 



1826.] JOURNAL 133 

people, when lie is in the humour. A man will do twice as much at 
one time and in half the time, and twice as well as he will be able to 
do at another. People are always crying out about method, and in 
some respects it is good, and shows to great advantage among men 
of business, but I doubt if men of method, who can lay aside or take 
up the pen just at the hour appointed, will ever be better than poor 
creatures. Lady L[ouisa] S[tuart] used to tell me of Mr. Hoole, the 
translator of Tasso and Ariosto, and in that capacity a noble trans- 
muter of gold into lead, that he was a clerk in the India House, with 
long ruffles and a snuff-coloured suit of clothes, who occasionally vis- 
ited her father [John, Earl of Bute]. She sometimes conversed with 
him, and was amused to find that he did exactly so many couplets 
day by day, neither more or less ; and habit had made it light to him, 
however heavy it might seem to the reader. 

Well, but if I lay down the pen, as the pain in my breast hints 
that I should, what am I to do ? If I think, why, I shall weep — and 
that's nonsense ; and I have no friend now — none — to receive my 
tediousness for half-an-hour of the gloaming. Let me be grateful — 
I have good news from Abbotsford. 

June 5. — Though this be Monday,- 1 am not able to feague it 
away, as Bayes says.^ Between correcting proofs and writing letters, 
I have got as yet but two pages written, and that with labour and a 
sensation of pain in the chest. I may be bringing on some serious 
disease by working thus hard ; if I had once justice done to other 
folks, I do not much care, only I would not like to suffer long pain. 
Harden made me a visit. He argued with me that Lord M. affiched 
his (5wn importance too much at the election, and says Henry is anx- 
ious about it. I hinted to him the necessity of counter-balancing it 
the next time, which will be soon. 

Thomson also called about the Bannatyne Club. 

These two interruptions did me good, though I am still a poor 
wretch. 

After all, I have fagged through six pages ; and made poor 
Wurmser lay down his sword on the glacis of Mantua — and my head 
aches — my eyes ache — my back aches — so does my breast — and I 
am sure my heart aches, and what can Duty ask more ? 

June 6. — I arose much better this morning, having taken some 
medicine, which has removed the strange and aching feeling in my 
back and breast. I believe it is from the diaphragm; it must be 
looked to, however. 1 have not yet breakfasted, yet have cleared 
half my day's work holding it at the ordinary stint. 

» Buckingham's Rehearsal. — The expression In some subsequent editions the words are: 

"To Feague" does not occur in the first ed-i- — "I lay my head close to it with a snuff-box 

tion, where the passage stands thus: — in my hand, and I feague it away. I' faith." 

"P%s.— When a knotty point comes, I lay I am indebted to Dr. Murray for this refer- 

my head close to it, with a pipe of tobacco in ence, which he kindly furnished me with from 

my mouth and then whew it away. I' faith. the materials collected for his great English 

" JBayes.— I do just so, i' gad, always." Act Dictionary. 
M. Sc. 4. 



134 JOURNAL [June 

Worked hard. John Swinton, my kinsman, came to see me, — 
very kind and affectionate in his manner ; my heart always warms to 
that Swinton connection, so faithful to old Scottish feelings. Harden 
was also with me. I talked with him about what Lord M. did at the 
election ; I find that he disapproves — I see these visits took place on 
the 6th. 

June 7. — Again a day of hard work, only at half -past eight I went 
to the Dean of Faculty's to a consultation about Constable.' and met 
with said Dean and Mr, [J. S.] More and J. Gibson. I find they have 
as high hope of success as lawyers ought to express ; and I think I 
know how our profession speak when sincere. I cannot interest my- 
self deeply in it. When I had come home from such a business, I 
used to carry the news to poor Charlotte, who dressed her face in 
sadness or mirth as she saw the news affect me ; this hangs lightly 
about me. I had almost forgot the appointment, if J. G. had not 
sent me a card, I passed a piper iu the street as I went to the Dean's 
and could not help giving him a shilling to play Pibroch a Doiiuil 
Dhu for luck's sake — what a child I am ! 

June 8. — Bilious and headache this morning. A dog howl'd all 
night and left me little sleep. Poor cur ! I dare say he had his dis- 
tresses, as I have mine. I was obliged to make Dalgleish shut the 
windows when he appeared at half-past six, as usual, and did not rise 
till nine, when me void. I have often deserved a headache in my 
younger days without having one, and Nature is, I suppose, paying 
off old scores. Ay, but then the want of the affectionate care that 
used to be ready, with lowered voice and stealthy pace, to smooth 
the pillow — and offer condolence and assistance, — gone — gone — for 
ever — ever — 'ever. Well, there is another world, and we'll meet free 
from the mortal sorrows- and frailties which beset us here. Amen, 
so be it. Let me change the topic with hand and head, and the heart 
must follow. 

I think that sitting so many days and working so hard may have 
brought on this headache. I must inflict a walk on myself to-day. 
Strange that what is my delight in the country is here a sort of pen- 
ance ! Well, but now I think on it, I will go to the Chief-Baron and 
try to get his Lordship's opinion about the question with Constable ; 
if I carry it, as there is, I trust, much hope I shall, Mr. Gibson says 
there will be funds to divide 6s. in the pound, without counting upon 
getting anything from Constable or Hurst, but sheer hard cash of my 
own. Such another pull is possible, especially if Boney succeeds, and 
the rogue had a knack at success. Such another, I say, and we touch 
ground I believe, for surely Constable, Robinson, etc., must pay some- 
thing ; the struggle is worth waring^ a headache upon. 

1 This alludes to the claim advanced by the the Scottish Bench under the title of Lord 

creditors of Constable and Co. to the copyright Corehouse, from 1826 until 1839, when he re- 

oi Woodstock and the Life of Napoleon. The tired; he died 1850. 
Dean of the Faculty of Advocates was at that 

time George Cranstoun, afterwards a judge ou 2 {^ g. spending. 



1826.] JOURNAL 135 

I finished five pages to-day, "headache, laziness, and all. 

June 9. — Corrected a stubborn proof this morning. These battles 
have been the death of many a man — I think they will be mine. Well 
but it clears to windward ; so we will fag on. 

Slept well last night. By the way, how intolerably selfish this Jour- 
nal makes me seem — so much attention to one's naturals and non-nat- 
urals ! Lord Mackenzie' called, and we had much chat about business. 
The late regulations for preparing cases in the Outer-House do not 
work well, and thus our old machinery, which was very indifferent, is 
succeeded by a kind that will hardly move at all. Mackenzie says his 
business is trebled, and that he cannot keep it up. I question wheth- 
er the extreme strictness of rules of court be advisable ; in practice 
they are always evaded, upon an equitable showing. I do not, for in- 
stance, lodge a paper dehito tempore, and for an accident happening, 
perhaps through the blunder of a Writer's apprentice, I am to lose 
my cause. The penalty is totally disproportioned to the delict, and 
the consequence is, that means are found out of evasion by legal fic- 
tions and the like. The judges listen to these ; they become frequent, 
and the rule of Court ends by being a scarecrow merely. Formerly, 
delays of this kind were checked by corresponding amendes. But the 
Court relaxed this petty fine too often. Had they been more strict, 
and levied the mulct on the agents, with no recourse upon their clients, 
the abuse might have been remedied. I fear the present rule is too 
severe to do much good. 

One effect of running causes fast through the Courts below is, that 
they go by scores to appeal, and Lord Gifford^ has hitherto decided 
them with such judgment, and so much rapidity, as to give great sat- 
isfaction. The consequence will in time be, that the Scottish Supreme 
Court will be in effect situated in London. Then down fall — as na- 
tional objects of respect and veneration — the Scottish Bench, the Scot- 
tish Bar, the Scottish Law herself, and — and — " there is an end of an 
auld sang." ^ Were I as I have been, I would fight knee-deep in blood 
ere it came to that. But it is a catastrophe which the great course of 
events brings daily nearer — 

" And who can help it, Dick ?" 

I shall always be proud of Malachi as having headed back the South- 
ron, or helped to do so, in one instance at least. 

June 10. — This was an unusual teind-day at Court. In the morn- 
ing and evening I corrected proofs — four sheets in number; and I 
wrote my task of three pages and a little more. Three pages, a day 

1 The eldest son of " Ti^e Man of Feeling.''^ Gifford had visited Abbotsford in the autumn 
He had been a judge from 1822 ; he died at the of 1825. 

age of seventy-four in 1851. 

2 Baron Gifford died a few months later, viz., 3 Speech of Lord Chancellor Seafield on the 
Sept. 1826; he had been Attorney- General in ratification of the Scottish Union.— See .VisceZZ. 
1819, and Chief-Justice in 1824. Lord and Lady Prose Works, vol. xxv. p. 93. 



136 JOURNAL [June 

will come, at Constable's rate, to about £12,000 to £15,000 per year. 
They have sent their claim ; it does not frighten me a bit. 

June 11. — Bad dreams about poor Charlotte. Woke, thinking 
my old and inseparable friend beside me ; and it was only when I was 
fully awake that I could persuade myself that she was dark, low, and 
distant, and that my bed was widowed. I believe the phenomena of 
dreaming are in a great measure occasioned by the double towcA, which 
takes place when one hand is crossed in sleep upon another. Each 
gives and receives the impression of touch to and from the other, and 
this complicated sensation our sleeping fancy ascribes to the agency 
of another being, when it is in fact produced by our own limbs acting 
on each other. Well, here goes — incumhite remis. 

June 12. — Finished volume third of Napoleon. I resumed it on 
the 1st of June, the earliest period that I could bend my mind to it 
after my great loss. Since that time I have lived, to be sure, the life 
of a hermit, except attending the Court five days in the w^eek for about 
three hours on an average. Except at that time I have been reading 
or writing on the subject of Boney^ and have finished last night, and 
sent to printer this morning the last sheets of fifty-two written since 
1st June. It is an awful screed ; but grief makes me a house-keeper, 
and to labour is my only resource. Ballantyne thinks well of the 
work — very well, but I shall [expect] inaccuracies. An' it were to do 
again, I would get some one to look it over. But who could that 
some one be ? Whom is there left of human race that I could hold 
such close intimacy with ? No one. ^'-Tanneguy du Chdtel ou es-tuP^ ' 
.Worked five pages. 

June 13. — I took a walk out last evening after tea, and called on 
Lord Chief-Commissioner and the Macdonald Buchanans, that kind 
and friendly clan. The heat is very great, and the wrath of the bugs 
in proportion. Two hours last night I was kept in an absolute fever. 
I must make some arrangement for winter. Great pity my old furni- 
ture was sold in such a hurry ! The wiser way would have been to 
have let the house furnished. But it's all one in the Greek. 

^^ Peccavi, peccavi, dies quidem sine lined P^ I walked to make calls; 
got cruelly hot ; drank ginger-beer ; wrote letters. Then as I was go- 
ing to dinner, enter a big splay-footed, trifle-headed, old pottering 
minister, who came to annoy me about a claim w^hich one of his pa- 
rishioners has to be Earl of Annandale, and which he conceits to be 
established out of the Border Minstrelsy. He mentioned a curious 
thing — that three brothers of the Johnstone family, on whose de- 
scendants the male representative of these great Border chiefs de- 
volved, were forced to fly to the north in consequence of their feuds 
with the Maxwells, and agreed to change their names. They slept on 
the side of the Soutra Hills, and asking a shepherd the name of the 
place, agreed in future to call themselves Sowtra or Sowter John- 

1 See Mor^ri's Dictionnaire, Art. "Tanneguy du Chatel." 



1826.] 



JOURNAL 



137 



stones. The old pudding-headed nian could not comprehend a word I 
either asked him or told him, and maundered till I wished him in the 
Annandale beef -stand. ^ Mr. Gibson came in after tea, and we talked 
business. Then I was lazy and stupid, and dozed over a book instead 
of writing.- So on the whole, Coiifiteor, confiteor^ culpa mea, culpa mea! 

June 14. — In the morning I began with a page and a half before 
breakfast. This is always the best way. You stand like a child go- 
ing to be bathed, shivering and shaking till the first pitcherful is 
flung about your eai:s, and then are as blithe as a water-wagtail. I 
am just come home from Parliament House ; and now, my friend 
Nap., have at you with a down-right blow ! Methinks I would fain 
make peace with my conscience by doing six pages to-night. Bought 
a little bit of Gruyere cheese, instead of our domestic choke-dog con- 
cern. When did I ever purchase anything for my own eating ? But 
I will say no more of that. And now to the bread-mill. 

June 15. — I laboured all the evening, but made little way. There 



1 An example of Scott's wonderful patience, 
and his power of utilising hints gathered from 
the most unpromising materials. Apropos of 
this Mr. Skene relates: — "In one of our fre- 
quent walks to the pier of Leith, to which the 
freshness of the sea breeze offered a strong in- 
ducement to those accustomed to pass a few 
of the morning hours within the close and im- 
pure atmosphere of the Court of Session, I hap- 
pened to meet with, and to recognize, the Mas- 
ter of a vessel in which I had sailed in the 
Mediterranean. Our recognition of each other 
seemed to give mutual satisfaction, as the cord- 
ial grasp of the seaman's hard fist effectually- 
indicated. It was some years since we had been 
shipmates, he had since visited almost every 
quarter of the globe, but he shook his head, 
and looked serious when he came to mention 
his last tri^. He had commanded a whaler, 
and having been for weeks exposed to great 
stress of weather in the polar regions, finally 
terminated in the total loss of his vessel, with 
most of her equipage, in the course of a dark 
tempestuous night. When thrown on her beam- 
ends, my friend had been washed overboard, 
and in his struggles to keep himself above wa- 
ter had got hold of a piece of ice, on the top 
of which he at length succeeded in raising 
himself— 'and there I was, sir, on a cursed 
dark dirty night, squatted on a round lump 
of floating ice, for all the world like a tea- 
table adrift in the middle of a stormy sea, 
without being able to see whether there was 
any hope within sight, and having enough ado 
to hold on, cold as my seat was, with some- 
times one end of me in the water, and some- 
times the other, as the ill-fashioned crank thing 
kept whirling and whomeling about all night. 
However, praised be God, daylight had not been 
long in, when a boat's crew on the outlook 
hove in sight, and taking me for a basking 
seal, and maybe I was not unlike that same, 
up they came of themselves, for neither voice 
nor hand had I to signal them, and if they lost 
their blubber, faith, sir, they did get a willing 
prize on board; so, after just a little bit glifi"of 
a prayer for the mercy that sent them to my 



help, I soon came to myself again, and now 
that I am landed safe and sound, I am walking 
about, ye see, like a gentleman, till I get some 
new craft to try the trade again.' — Sir Walter, 
who was leaning on my arm during this narra- 
tive, had not taken any share in the dialogue, 
and kept gazing to seaward, with his usual 
heavy, absorbed expression, and only joined in 
wishing the seaman better success in his next 
trip as we parted. However, the detail had by 
no means escaped his notice, but dropping into 
the fertile soil of his mind, speedily yielded 
fruit, quite characteristic of his habits. We 
happened that evening to dine in company to- 
gether; I was not near Sir Walter at table, but 
in the course of the evening my attention was 
called to listen to a narrative with which he 
was entertaining those around him, and he 
seemed as usual to have excited the eager in- 
terest of his hearers. The commencement of 
the story I had not heard, but soon perceived 
that a shipwreck was the theme, which he de- 
scribed wnih all the vivid touches of his fancy, 
marshalling the incidents and striking features 
of the situation with a degree of dexterity that 
seemed to bring all the horrors of a polar storm 
home to every one's mind, and although it oc- 
curred to me that our rencontre in the morning 
with the shipwrecked Whaler might have re- 
called a similar story to his recollection, it was 
not until he came to mention the tea-table of 
ice that I recognised the identity of my friend's 
tale, which had luxuriated to such an extent 
in the fertile soil of the poet's imagination, as 
to have left the original germ in comparative 
insignificance. He cast a glance towards me at 
the close, and observed, with a significant nod, 
'You see, you did not hear one-half of that 
honest seaman's story this morning.' It was 
such slender hints, which in the common in- 
tercourse of life must have hourly dropped on 
the soil of his retentive memory, that fed the 
exuberance of Sir Walter's invention, and sup- 
plied the seemingly inexhaustible stream of 
fancy, from w^hich he drew forth at pleasure 
the ground- work of romance."— .Kemimscences. 



138 JOURNAL [June 

were many books to consult ; and so all I could really do was to 
make out my task of three pages. I will try to make up the deficit 
of Tuesday to-day and to-morrow. Letters from Walter — all well. A 
visit yesterday from Charles Sharpe. 

June 16. — Yesterday sate in the Court till nearly four. I had, 
of course, only time for my task. I fear I will have little more to- 
day, for I have accepted to dine at Hector's. I got, yesterday, a 
present of two engravings from Sir Henry Raeburn's portrait of me, 
which (poor fellow !) was the last he ever painted, and certainly not 
his worst. ^ I had the pleasure to give one to young Mr. Davidoff for 
his uncle, the celebrated Black Captain of the campaign of 1812. 
Curious that he should be interested in getting the resemblance of a 
person whose mode of attaining some distinction has been very dif- 
ferent. But I am sensible, that if there be anything good about my 
poetry or prose either, it is a hurried frankness of composition which 
pleases soldiers, sailors, and young people of bold and active disposi- 
tion. I have been no sigher in shades — no writer of 

"Songs and sonnets and rustical roundelays, 
Framed on fancies, and whistled on reeds." '■^ 

\^Ahhotsford^ Saturday^ June 17. — Left Edinburgh to-day after 
Parliament House to come [here]. My two girls met me at Torsonce, 
which was a pleasant surprise, and we returned in the sociable all to- 
gether. Found everything right and well at Abbotsford under the 
new regime, I again took possession of the family bedroom and my 
widowed couch. This was a sore trial, but it was necessarf not to 
blink such a resolation. Indeed, I do not like to haver it thought 
that there is any way in which I can be beaten.^ 

June 18. — This morning wrote till half -twelve — good day's work 
— at Canongate Chronicles. Methinks I can make this work answer. 
Then drove to Huntly Burn and called at Chiefswood. Walked 
home. The country crying for rain ; yet on the whole the weather 
delicious, dry, and warm, with a fine air of wind. The young woods 
are rising in a kind of profusion I never saw elsewhere. Let me 
once clear off these encumbrances, and they shall wave broader and 
deeper yet. But to attain this I must work. 

Wrought very fair accordingly till two ; then walked ; after din- 

1 Painted for Lord Montagu in 1822.— See July, 1823, and I do not know what became of 

Life, vol. vii. p. 13. the original, which may be identified by an 

Raeburn apparently executed two "half official chain round the neck, not introduced in 

lengths " of Scott almost identical at this time, the Montagu picture. 

^hl'il^r'^ Montagu his choice. The picture ^ gong of The Hunting of the Hare.-z. g. l. 
chosen remamed at Ditton, near Windsor, un- •= ^ •' 
til 1845, when at Lord Montagu's death it be- 3 This entry reminds one of Hannah More's 
came the property of his son-in-law, the Earl account of Mrs. Garrick's conduct after her 
of Home, and it is now (1889) at the Hirsel, husband's funeral. "She told me," says Mrs. 
Coldstream. The engraving referred to was More, "that she prayed with great compos- 
made from the replica, which remained in the ure, then went and kissed the dear bed. and 
artist's possession, by Mr. Walker, and pub- got into it with a sad pleasure."— See ..VemoiVs 
lished in 1826. Sir Henry Raeburn died in o/i/^rs. ifore, vol. i. p. 135.— j. q. l. 



1826.] JOURNAL 139 

ner out again with the girls. Smoked two cigars, first time these 
two mionths. 

June 19. — "Wrought very fair indeed, and the day being scorching 
we dined al fresco in the hall among the armour, and went out early 
in the evening. Walked to the lake and back again by the Marie 
pool ; very delightful evening. 

June 20. — This is also a hard-working day. Hot weather is fa- 
vourable for application, were it not that it makes the composer sleepy. 
Pray God the reader may not partake the sensation ! But days of 
hard work make short journals. To-day we again dine in the hall, 
and drive to Ashestiel in the evenmg pour p^^end^^e lefrais. 

June 21. — We followed the same course we proposed. For a 
party of pleasure I have attended to business well. Twenty pages of 
Croftangry, five printed pages each, attest my diligence, and I have 
had a delightful variation by the company of the two Annes. Regu- 
lated my little expenses here. 

[Edinburgh,^ June 22. — Returned to my Patmos. Heard good 
news from Lockhart. Wife well, and John Hugh better. He men- 
tions poor Southey testifying much interest for me, even to tears. It 
is odd — am I so hard-hearted a man? I could not have wept for 
him, though in distress I would have gone any length to serve him. 
I sometimes think I do not deserve people's good opinion, for cer- 
tainly my feelings are rather guided by reflection than impulse. But 
everybody has his own mode of expressing interest, and mine is 
stoical even in bitterest grief. Agere atque pati Romanum est. I 
hope I am not the worse for wanting the tenderness that I see others 
possess^'an'd which is so amiable. I think it does not cool my wish 
to be wu^e where I can. But the truth is, I am better at enduring 
or acting than at consoling. From childhood's earliest hour my 
heart rebelled against the influence of external circumstances in my- 
self and others. Non est tanti ! 

To-day I was detained in the Court from half -past ten till near 
four ; yet I finished and sent off a packet to Cadell, which will finish 
one-third of the Chronicles, vol. 1st. 

Henry Scott came in while I was at dinner, and sat while I ate 
my beef-steak. A gourmand would think me much at a loss, com- 
ing back to my ploughman's meal of boiled beef and Scotch broth, 
from the rather recherche table at Abbotsford, but I have no philoso- 
phy in my carelessness on that score. It is natural — though I am 
no ascetic, as my father was. 

June 23. — The heat tremendous, and the drought threatening the 
hay and barley crop. Got from the Court at half-twelve, and walked 
to the extremity of Heriot Row to see poor Lady Don ; left my card 
as she does not receive any one. I am glad this painful meeting is ad- 
journed. I received to-day £10 from Blackwood for the article on 
The Omen. Time was I would not have taken these small tithes of 
mint and cummin, but scornful dogs will eat dirty puddings, and I, 



140 JOURNAL [June 

witli many depending on me, must do the best I can witli my time — 
God help me ! 

[^B lair- Ada ni,~\ June 24. — Left Edinburgh yesterday after the 
Court, half -past twelve, and came over here with the Lord Chief-Baron 
and William Clerk, to spend as usual a day or two at Blair- Adam. In 
general, this is a very gay affair. We hire a light coach-and-f our, and 
scour the country in every direction in quest of objects of curiosity.. 
But the Lord Chief-Commissioner's family misfortunes and my own 
make our holiday this year of a more quiet description than usual, and 
a sensible degree of melancholy hangs on the reunion of our party. It 
was wise, however, not to omit it, for to slacken your hold on life in 
any agreeable point of connection is the sooner to reduce yourself to 
the indifference and passive vegetation of old age. 

June 25. — Another melting day; thermometer at 78° even here. 
80° was the height yesterday at Edinburgh. If we attempt any active 
proceeding we dissolve ourselves into a dew. We have lounged 
away the morning creeping about the place, sitting a great deal, and 
walking as little as might be on account of the heat. 

Blair-Adam has been successively in possession of three generations 
of persons attached to and skilled in the art of embellishment, and 
may be fairly taken as a place where art and taste have done a great 
deal to improve nature. A long ridge of varied ground sloping to the 
foot of the hill called Beuarty, and which originally was of a bare, 
mossy, boggy character, has been clothed by the son, father, and 
grandfather; while the undulations and hollows, which seventy or 
eighty years since must have looked only like wrinkles in the black 
morasses, being now drained and limed, are skirted with deep woods, 
particularly of spruce, which thrives wonderfully, and covered with 
excellent grass. We drove in the droskie and walked in the evening. 

June 26. — Another day of unmitigated heat; thermometer 82; 
must be higher in Edinburgh, where I return to-night, when the de- 
cline of the sun makes travelling practicable. It will be well for my 
work to be there — not quite so well for me ; there is a difference be- 
tween the clean, nice arrangement of Blair-Adam and Mrs. Brown's 
accommodations, though he who is insured against worse has no right 
to complain of them. But the studious neatness of poor Charlotte 
has perhaps made me fastidious. She loved to see things clean, even 
to Oriental scrupulosity. So oddly do our deep recollections of other 
kinds correspond with the most petty occurrences of our life. 

Lord Chief-Baron told us a story of the ruling passion strong in 
death. A Master in Chancery was on his death-bed — a very wealthy 
man. Some occasion of great urgency occurred in which it was nec- 
essary to make an affidavit, and the attorney, missing one or two oth- 
er Masters, whom he inquired after, ventured to ask if Mr. would 

be able to receive the deposition. The proposal seemed to give him 
momentary strength ; his clerk sent for, and the oath taken in due 
form, the Master was lifted up in bed, and with diflSculty subscribed 



1826.] JOURNAL 141 

the paper; as he sank down again, lie made a signal to his clerk — 
" Wallace." — " Sir ?" — " Your ear — lower — lower. Have you got the 
half-crown ?" He was dead before morning. 

[Edinburgh^ June 27. — Returned to Edinburgh late last night, and 
had a most sweltering night of it. This day also cruel hot. How- 
ever, I made a task or nearly so, and read a good deal about the 
Egyptian Expedition. Had comfortable accounts of Anne, and 
through her of Sophia. Dr. Shaw doubts if anything is actually the 
matter with poor Johnnie's back. I hope the dear child will escape 
deformity, and the infirmities attending that helpless state. I have 
myself been able to fight up very well, notwithstanding my lameness, 
but it has cost great efforts, and I am besides very strong. Dined 
with Colin Mackenzie ; a fine family all growing up about him, turn- 
ing men and women, and treading fast on our heels. Some thunder 
and showers which I fear will be but partial. Hot — hot — hot. 

June 28. — Another hot morning, and something like an idle day, 
though I have read a good deal. But I have slept also, corrected 
proofs, and prepared for a great start, by filling myself with facts and 
ideas. 

June 29. — I walked out for an hour last night, and made one or 
two calls — the evening was delightful — 

"Day its sultry fires had wasted, 

Calm and cool the moonbeam rose ; 
Even a captive's bosom tasted 
Half oblivion of his woes." ^ 

I wonder often how Tom Campbell, with so much real genius, has not 
maintained a greater figure in the public eye than he has done of late. 
The Magazine seems to have paralysed him. The author, not only of 
the Pleasures of Hope, but of Hohenlinden, Lochiel, etc., should have 
been at the very top of the tree. Somehow he wants audacity, fears 
the public, and, what is worse, fears the shadow of his own reputation. 
He is a great corrector too, which succeeds as ill in composition as in 
education. Many a clever boy is flogged into a dunce, and many an 
original composition corrected into mediocrity. Yet Tom Campbell 
ought to have done a great deal more. His youthful promise was 
great. John Leyden introduced me to him. They afterwards quar- 
relled. When I repeated Hohenlinden to Leyden, he said, "Dash it, 
man, tell the fellow that I hate him, but, dash him, he has written the 
finest verses that have been published these fifty years." I did mine 
errand as faithfully as one of Homer's messengers, and had for answer, 
" Tell Leyden that I detest him, but I know the value of his critical 
approbation." This feud was therefore in the way of being taken up. 
" When Leyden comes back from India," said Tom Campbell, " what 



1 Campbell's Turkish Lady slightly altered. The poet was then editor of the New Monthly 
Magazine, but he soon gave it up. — ^J. G. l. 



142 JOURNAL [June, 1826. 

cannibals lie will have eaten and what tigers he will have torn to 
, pieces !" 

Gave a poor poetess £1. Gibson writes me that £2300 is offered 
for the poor house; it is worth £300 more, but I will not oppose my own 
opinion, or convenience to good and well-meant counsel : so farewell, 
poor No. 39. What a portion of my life has been spent there ! It 
has sheltered me from the prime of life to its decline ; and now I must 
bid good-bye to it. I have bid good-bye to my poor wife, so long its 
courteous and kind mistress, — and I need not care about the empty 
rooms ; yet it gives me a turn. I have been so long a citizen of Ed- 
inburgh, now an indweller only. Never mind ; all in the day's work. 

J. Ballantyne and R. Cadell dined with me, and, as Pepys would 
say, all was very handsome. Drank amongst us one bottle of cham- 
pagne, one of claret, a glass or two of port, and each a tumbler of 
whisky toddy. J. B. had courage to drink his with hot water ; mine 
was iced. 

June 30. — Here is another dreadful warm day, fit for nobody but 
the flies. And then one is confined to town. 

Yesterday I agreed to let Cadell have the new work,' edition 1500, 
he paying all charges, and paying also £500 — two hundred and fifty 
at Lammas, to pay J. Gibson money advanced on the passage of young 
Walter, my nephew, to India. It is like a thorn in one's eye this sort 
of debt, and Gibson is young in business, and somewhat involved in 
my affairs besides. Our plan is, that this same Miscellany/ or Chron- 
icle shall be committed quietly to the public, and we hope it will at- 
tract attention. If it does not, we must turn public attention to it 
ourselves. About one half of vol. i.is written, and there is worse 
abomination, or I mistake the matter. 

I was detained in Court till four ; dreadfully close, and obliged to 
drink water for refreshment, which formerly I used to scorn, even on 
the moors, with a burning August sun, the heat of exercise, and a hun- 
dred springs gushing around me. 

Corrected proofs, etc., on my return. I think I have conquered 
the trustees' objections to carry on the small edition of novels. Got 
Cadell's letter about the Chronicle. 

1 Viz.: the first series of Chronicles of the Crusaders, etc. "He was a very perfect gen- 

Canon^ra^e, which was published in 1827. The tie knight" (Chaucer). Edinburgh: Printed 

title originally proposed was The Canongate for Archibald Constable and Co., Edinburgh; 

Miscellany or Traditions of the Sanctuary. and Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, and Green, 

Woodstock had just been launched under the London, 1826. (At the end) Edinburgh: Print- 
following title:— Woodstock, or the Cavalier ; a ed by James Ballantyne and Co. 3 vols, post 
Tale of the Year Sixteen Hundred and Fifty- 8vo. 
one, by the author of Waverley, TcUes of the 



JULY 

[Edinburgh^^ July 1. — Another sunny day. This threatens ab- 
solutely Syrian drought. As the Selkirk election comes on Monday, 
I go out to-day to Abbotsf ord, and carry young Davidofi and his tutor 
with me, to see our quiet way of managing the choice of a national 
representative. 

I wrote a page or two last night slumbrously. 

[Abbotsf or d,'\ July 2. — Late at Court. Got to Abbotsf ord last night 
with Count Davidoff about eight o'clock. I worked a little this 
morning, then had a long' and warm walk. Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton 
from Chiefswood, the present inhabitants of Lockhart's cottage, 
dined with us, which made the society pleasant. He is a fine, sol- 
dierly-looking man^ — though affected with paralysis — his wife a sweet 
good-humoured little woman. He is supposed to be a writer in Black- 
wood's Magazine. Since we were to lose the Lockharts, we could 
scarce have had more agreeable folks. 

At Selkirk, where Borthwickbrae was elected with the usual 
unanimity of the Forest freeholders. This was a sight to my young 
Muscovite. We walked in the evening to the lake. 

July 5. — Still very hot, but with thunder showers. Wrote till 
breakfast, then walked and signed the death-warrant of a number of 
old firs at Abbotstown. I hope their deaths will prove useful. Their 
lives are certainly not ornamental. Young Mr. Davidoff entered upon 
the cause of the late discontents in Russia, which he imputes to a 
deep-seated Jacobin conspiracy to overthrow the state and empire and 
establish a government by consuls. 

[Edinburgh,'] July 6. — Returned last night with my frozen Mus- 
covites to the Capital, and suffered as usual from the incursions of 
the black horse during the night. It was absolute fever. A bunch 
of letters, but little interesting. Mr. Barry Cornwall "^ writes to con- 
dole with me. I think our acquaintance scarce warranted this ; but 
it is well meant and modestly done. I cannot conceive the idea of 
forcing myself on strangers in distress, and I have half a mind to 
turn sharp round on some of my consolers. Came home from Court. 
R. P. Gillies called ; he is writing a satire. He has a singular talent 
of aping the measure and tone of Byron, and this poem goes to the 

1 Thomas Hamilton, Esq. (brother of Sir Wm. » Bryan Waller Procter, author of Dramatic 

Hamilton, the Metaphysician), author of Cyril Scenes, and other Poems, 1819. He died in Lon- 

Thnrnton, Men and Manners in America, Annals don in 1874. 
of the Peninsular Campaign, etc. Died in 1842. 



144 ^ JOURNAL [July 

tune of Don Juan, but it is the Champagne after it has stood two 
days with the cork drawn. Thereafter came Charles K. Sharpe and 
Will Clerk, as Robinson sayeth, to my exceeding refreshment/ And 
last, not least, Mr. Jollie, one of the triumvirs who manage my poor 
matters. He consents to going on with the small edition of novels, 
which he did not before comprehend. All this has consumed the 
day, but we will make up tide- way presently. I must dress to go to 
Lord Medwyn'' to dinner, and it is near time. 

July 7. — Coming home from Lord Medwyn's last night I fell in 
with Willie Clerk, and went home to drink a little shrub and water, 
over which we chatted of old stories until half-past eleven. This 
morning I corrected two proofs of C[roftangr]y, which is getting on. 
But there must be a little check with the throng of business at the 
close of the session. D — n the session ! I wish it would close its 
eyes for a century. It is too bad to be kept broiling here ; but, on 
the other hand, we must have the instinctive gratitude of the Laird of 
M'Intosh, who was for the King that gave M'Intosh half-a-guinea the 
day and half-a-guinea the morn. So I retract my malediction. 

Received from Blackwood to account sales of Malachi £72 with 
some odd shillings. This was for copies sold to Banks. The cash 
comes far from ill-timed, having to clear all odds and ends before I 
leave Edinburgh. This will carry me on tidily till 25th, when pre- 
cepts become payable. Well ! if Malachi did me some mischief, he 
must also contribute quodam modo to my comfort. 

July 8. — Wrote a good task this morning. I may be mistaken ; 
but I do think the tale of Elspat McTavish ^ in my bettermost man- 
ner — but J. B. roars for chivalry. He does not quite understand that 
everything may be overdone in this world, or sufficiently estimate the 
necessity of novelty. The Highlanders have been off the field now 
for some time. 

Returning from Court, looked into a show of wild beasts, and saw 
Nero the great lion, whom they had the cruelty to bait with bull-dogs, 
against whom the noble creature disdained to exert his strength. He 
was lying like a prince in a large cage, where you might be admitted 
if you wish. I had a month's mind — but was afraid of the news- 
papers ; I could be afraid of nothing else, for never did a creature 
seem more gentle and yet majestic — I longed to caress him. Wallace, 
the other lion, born in Scotland, seemed much less trustworthy. He 
handled the dogs as his namesake did the southron. 

Enter a confounded Dousterswivel, called Burschal, or some such 
name, patronised by John Lockhart, teacher of German and learner 
of English. 

He opened the trenches by making me a present of a German 

» A favourite expression of Scott's, from Rob- Pitsligo. Lord Medwyn died at the age of sev- 

inson Crusoe. enty-eight in 1854. 

' John Hay Forbes (Lord Medwyn from 1825 

to 1852), second son of Sir William Forbes of ' The Highland Widow. 



1826.J JOUKNAL 145 

work called Der Bihelische Orient, then began to talk of literature at 
large ; and display his own pretensions. Asked my opinion of Gray 
as a poet, and wished me to subscribe an attestation of his own mer- 
its for the purpose of getting him scholars. As I hinted my want of 
acquaintance with his qualifications, I found I had nearly landed my- 
self in a proof, for he was girding up his loins to repeated thunder- 
ing translations by himself into German, Hebrew, until, thinking it 
superfluous to stand on very much ceremony with one who used so 
little with me, hinted at letters to write, and got him to translate him- 
self elsewhere. 

Saw a good house in Brunswick Street, which I liked. This 
evening supped with Thomas Thomson about the affairs of the Ban- 
natyne. There was the Dean, Will Clerk, John Thomson, young 
Smythe of Methven ; very pleasant. 

July 9. — Rather slumbrous to-day from having sat up till twelve 
last night. We settled, or seemed to settle, on an election for the 
Bannatyne Club. There are people who would wish to confine it 
much to one party. But those who were together last night saw it in 
the true and liberal point of view, as a great national institution, 
which may do much good in the way of publishing our old records, 
providing we do not fall into the usual habit of antiquarians, and neg- 
lect what is useful for things that are merely curious. Thomson is a 
host for such an undertaking. I wrote a good day's work at the Can- 
ongate matter, notwithstanding the intervention of two naps. I get 
sleepy oftener than usual. It is the weather I suppose — Nahoclish ! * 
I am near the end of the first volume, and every step is one out of 
difficulty. 

July 10. — Slept too long this morning. It was eight before I rose 
— half-past eight ere I came into the parlour. Terry and J. Ballan- 
tyne dined with me yesterday, and I suppose the wassail, though there 
was little enough of it, had stuck to my pillow. 

This morning I was visited by a Mr. Lewis, a smart Cockney, 
whose object is to amend the handwriting. He uses as a mechanical 
aid a sort of puzzle of wire and ivory, which is put upon the fingers 
to keep them in the desired position, like the muzzle on a dog's nose 
to make him bear himself right in the field. It is ingenious, and may 
be useful. If the man comes here, as he proposes, in winter, I will 
take lessons. Bear witness, good reader, that if W. S. writes a cramp 
hand, as is the case, he is desirous to mend it. 

Dined with John Swinton enfamille. He told me an odd circum- 
stance. Coming from Berwickshire in the mail coach he met with a 
passenger who seemed more like a military man than anything else. 
They talked on all sorts of subjects, at length on politics. MalacMs 

1 A favourite exclamation of Sir Walter's, was cut off and placed upon a table: " '■Quis 
which he had picked up on his Irish tour, sig- separabii?' says the head; ^Naboclish,^ says I, 
nifying "don't mind 'yf'—Xa-bac-leis. Com- in the same language," 
pare Sir Boyle Roche's dream that his head 
10 



146 JOURNAL [July 

letters were mentioned, when the stranger observed they were much 
more seditious than some expressions for which he had three or four 
years ago been nearly sent to Botany Bay. And perceiving John 
Swinton surprised at this avowal, he added, " I am Kinloch of Kin- 
loch." This gentleman had got engaged in the radical business (the 
only real gentleman by the way who did), and harangued the weavers 
of Dundee with such emphasis that he w^ould have been tried and 
sent to Botany Bay had he not fled abroad. He was outlawed, and 
only restored to his status on a composition with Government. It 
seems to have escaped Mr. Kinloch that the conduct of a man who 
places a lighted coal in the middle of combustibles, and upon the 
floor, is a little different from that of one who places the same quan- 
tity of burning fuel in a fire-grate ! ^ 

July 11. — The last day of the session, and as toilsome a one as I 
ever saw. There were about 100 or 120 cases on the roll, and most 
of them of an incidental character, which gives us Clerks the greatest 
trouble, for it is the grasshopper that is a burthen to us. Came home 
about four, tired and hungry. I wrought little or none ; indeed I 
could not, having books and things to pack. Went in the evening 
to sup with John Murray,'^ where I met Will Clerk, Thomson, Hen- 
derland, and Charles Stuart Blantyre, and had of course a pleasant 
party. I came late home, though, for me, and was not in bed till 
past midnight; it would not do for me to do this often. 

July 12. — I have the more reason to eschew evening parties that 
I slept two mornings till past eight ; these vigils would soon tell on 
my utility, as the divines call it, but this is the last day in town, and 
the world shall be amended. I have been trying to mediate between 
the unhappy R. P. Gpllies] and his uncle Lord G. The latter talks 
like a man of sense and a good relation, and would, I think, do some- 
thing for R. P. G., if he would renounce temporary expedients and 
bring his affairs to a distinct crisis. But this R. P. will not hear of, 
but flatters himself with ideas which seem to me quite visionary. I 
could make nothing of him ; but, I conclude, offended him by being 
of his uncle's opinion rather than his, as to the mode of extricating 
his affairs. 

I am to dine out to-day, and I would fain shirk and stay at home ; 
never, Shylock-like, had I less will to feasting forth, but I must go or 
be thought sulky. Lord M. and Lady Abercromby called this morn- 
ing, and a world of people besides, among others honest Mr. Wilson, 
late of Wilsontown, who took so much care of me at London, send- 
ing fresh eggs and all sorts of good things. Well, I have dawdled 
and written letters sorely against the grain all day. Also I have been 

1 That Mr. Kiulock was not singular in his lock would have been an idiot if he had stay- 
opinion has been shown by the remarks made ed." Mr. Kiulock had just returned to Scot- 
in the House of Commons (see ante., Jfarch 17). land. 
Lord Cockbnrn in his Trials for Sedition says, 

"With Botany Bay before him, and money to 2 His neighbour, John Archibald Murray, 

make himself comfortable in Paris, George Kin- then living at 122 George Street.— See p. 85. 



1826.] JOURNAL 147 

down to see Will Allan's picture of the Landing of Queen Mary, 
which he has begun in a great style ; also I have put my letters and 
papers to rights, which only happens when I am about to move, and 
now, having nothing left to do, I must go and dress myself. 

July 13. — Dined yesterday with Lord Abercromby at a party he 
gave to Lord Melville and some old friends, who formed the Contem- 
porary Club. Lord M. and I met with considerable feeling on both 
sides, and all our feuds were forgotten and forgiven ; I conclude so 
at least, because one or two people, whom I know to be sharp ob- 
servers of the weatherglass on occasion of such squalls, have been 
earnest with me to meet Lord M. at parties — which I am well assured 
they would not have been (had I been Horace come to life again*) 
were they not sure the breeze was over. For myself, I am happy 
that our usual state of friendship should be restored, though I could 
not have come down proud stomach to make advances, which is, 
among friends, always the duty of the richer and more powerful of 
the two. 

To-day I leave Mrs. Brown's lodgings. Altogether I cannot com- 
plain, but the insects were voracious, even until last night when the 
turtle-soup and champagne ought to have made me sleep like a top. 
But I have done a monstrous sight of work here notwithstanding the 
indolence of this last week, which must and shall be amended. 

" So good-by, Mrs. Brown, 
I am going out of town, 
Over dale, over down, 
Where bugs bite not, 
Where lodgers fight not, 
Where below you chairmen drink not, 
Where beside you gutters stink not ; 
But all is fresh, and clean, and gay, 
And merry lambkins sport and play, 
And they toss with rakes uncommonly short hay, 
Which looks as if it had been sown only the other day, 
And where oats are at twenty-five shillings a boll, they say, 
But all's one for that, since I must and will away." 

July 14, Abbotsford. — Arrived here yesterday before five o'clock. 
Anybody would think, from the fal-de-ral conclusion of my journal 
yesterday, that I left town in a very gay humour — cujus contrarium 
verum est. But nature has given me a kind of buoyancy, I know not 
what to call it, that mingles even with my deepest afflictions and most 
gloomy hours. I have a secret pride — 1 fancy it will be so most 
truly termed — which impels me to mix with my distresses strange 
snatches of mirth " which have no mirth in them." In fact, the jour- 
ney hither, the absence of the affectionate friend that used to be my 
companion on the journey, and many mingled thoughts of bitterness, 
have given me a fit of the bile. 

1 See Moli^re's VEcole des Femmes. 



148 JOURNAL [July 

July 15. — This day I did not attempt to work, "but spent ray time 
in the morning in making the necessary catalogue and distribution 
of two or three chests of books which I have got home from the 
binder, Niece Anne acting as my Amanuensis. In the evening we 
drove to Huntly Burn, and took tea there. Returning home we es- 
caped a considerable danger. The iron screw bolts of the driving- 
seat suddenly giving way, the servants were very nearly precipitated 
upon the backs of the horses. Had it been down hill instead of be- 
ing on the level, the horses must have taken fright, and the conse- 
quences might have been fatal. Indeed, they had almost taken fright 
as it was, had not Peter Matheson,^ who, in Mr. Fag's phrase, I take 
to be, " the discreetest of whips," * kept his presence of mind, when 
losing his equilibrium, so that he managed to keep the horses in hand 
until we all got out. I must say it is not the first imminent danger 
on which I have seen Peter (my Automedon for near twenty-five 
years) behave with the utmost firmness. 

July 16. — Very unsatisfactory to-day. Sleepy, stupid, indolent — 
finished arranging the books, and after that was totally useless — un- 
less it can be called study that I slumbered for three or four hours 
over a variorum edition of the Giirs-Hill's tragedy.^ Admirable rec- 
ipe for low spirits — for, not to mention the brutality of so extraordi- 
nary a murder, it led John Bull into one of his uncommon fits of 
gambols, until at last he become so maudlin as to weep for the piti- 
less assassin, Thurtell, and treasure up the leaves and twigs of the 
hedge and shrubs in the fatal garden as valuable relics — nay, thronged 
the minor theatres to see the very roan horse and yellow gig in which 
the body was transported from one place to another. I have not 
stept over the threshold to-day, so very stupid have I been. 

July 17. — Desidice longum valedixi. Our time is like our money. 
When we change a guinea, the shillings escape as things of small ac- 
count ; when we break a day by idleness in the morning, the rest of 
the hours lose their importance in our eye. I set stoutly to work 
about seven this morning to Boney — 

And long ere dinner-time, I have 

Full eight close pages wrote ; 
What, Duty, hast thou now to crave? 

Well done, Sir Walter Scott ! 

July 18.-^This, as yesterday^ has been a day of unremitting la- 
bour, though I only got through half the quantity of manuscript, 

J to 1827 Scott was one day heard saying, as at GiU's-Hili in Hertfordshire (1824). Sir Wal- 

he saw Peter guiding the plough on the haugh : ter collected printed trials with great assiduity, 

— " Egad, auld Pepe's whistling at his darg: if and took care always to have the contemporary 

things get round with me, easy will be his cash- ballads and prints bound up with them. He 

i.on!" Old Peter lived until he was eighty- four. admired particularly this verse of Mr. Hook's 

He died at Abbotsford in 1854, where he had broadside — 
been well cared for, respected, and beloved by 
all the members of the family since Sir Wal- "They cut his throat from ear to ear, 

r _)„ ]„„*u His brains thev battered m : 

t&V S death. . , „ His name was Mr. William Weare, 

2 Sheridan's Rivals, Act II. Sc. 1. He dwelt in Lyon's Inn." 

3 'J'he murder of Weare by Thurtell and Co., — j. q. l, 



1826.] JOURNAL 149 

owing to drowsiness, a most disarming annoyance. I walked a little 
before dinner and after tea, but was unable to go with the girls and 
Charles to the top of Cauldshiels Hill. I fear my walking powers 
are diminishing, but why not? They have been wonderfully long 
eflBcient, all things considered, only I fear I shall get fat and fall into 
diseases. Well, things must be as they may. Let us use the time 
and faculties which God has left us, and trust futurity to his guid- 
ance. Amen. 

This is the day of St. Boswell's Fair. That watery saint has for 
once had a dry festival. 

July 19. — Wrote a page this morning, but no more. Corrected 
proofs however, and went to Selkirk to hold Sheriff Court ; this con- 
sumed the forenoon. Colonel and Miss Ferguson, with Mr. and Mrs. 
Laidlaw, dined and occupied the evening. The rain seemed to set in 
this night. 

July 20. — To-day rainy. A morning and forenoon of hard work. 
About five pages, which makes up for yesterday's lee way. I am 
sadly tired however. But as I go to Mertoun at foui*, and spend the 
night there, the exertion was necessary. 

July 21. — To Mertoun we went accordingly. Lord and Lady 
Minto were there, with part of their family, David Haliburton, etc., 
besides their own large family. So my lodging was a little room 
which I had not occupied since I was a bachelor, but often before in 
my frequent intercourse with this kind and hospitable family. Feel- 
ing myself returned to that celibacy, which renders many accommo- 
dations indifferent which but lately were indispensable, my imagina- 
tion drew a melancholy contrast between the young man entering the 
world on fire for fame, and restless in imagining means of coming by 
it, and the aged widower, hlase on the point of literary reputation, de- 
prived of the social comforts of a married state, and looking back to 
regret instead of looking forward to hope. This brought bad sleep 
and unpleasing dreams. But if I cannot hope to be what I have 
been, I will not, if I can help it, suffer vain repining to make me worse 
than I may be. 

We left Mertoun after breakfast, and the two Annes and I visited 
Lady Raeburn at Lessudden. My Aunt is now in her ninetieth year 
— so clean, so nice, so well arranged in every respect, that it makes 
old age lovely. She talks both of late and former events with perfect 
possession of her faculties, and has only failed in her limbs. A great 
deal of kind feeling has survived, in spite of the frost of years. 

Home to dinner, and worked all the afternoon among the Moni- 
teurs — to little purpose, for my principal acquisition was a headache. 
I wrote nothing to-day but part of a trifle for Blackwood. 

July 22. — The same severe headache attends my poor pate. But 
I have worked a good deal this morning, and will do more. I wish 
to have half the volume sent into town on Monday if possible. It will 
be a royal effort, and more than make up for the blanks of this week. 



150 JOURNAL [July 

July 23. — I wrote very hard this day, and attained page 40 ; 45 
would be more than half the volume. Colonel Russell came about 
one, and carried me out a-walking, w^hich I was all the better of. In 
the evening we expected Terry and his wife, but they did not come, 
which makes me fear she may be unwell again. 

July 24. — A great number of proof-sheets to revise and send off, 
and after that I took a fancy to give a more full account of the Con- 
stitution framed by Sieyes — a complicated and ingenious web ; it is 
but far too fine and critical to be practically useful. 

July 25. — Terry and wife arrived yesterday. Both very well. At 
dinner-time to-day came Dr. Jamieson^ of the Scottish Dictionary, an 
excellent good man, and full of auld Scottish cranks, which amuse me 
well enough, but are caviare to the young people. A little prolix and 
heavy is the good Doctor ; somewhat prosaic, and accustomed to 
much attention on the Sunday from his congregation, and I hope on 
the six other days from his family. So tie will demand full attention 
from all and sundry before he begins a story, and once begun there 
is no chance of his ending. 

July 26. — This day went to Selkirk, and held a Court. The Doc- 
tor and Terry chose to go with me. Captain and Mrs. Hamilton came 
to dinner. Desperate warm weather ! Little done in the literary way 
except sending off proofs. Roup of standing corn, etc., went off very 
indifferently. Letter from Ballantyne wanting me to write about ab- 
sentees. But I have enough to do without burning my fingers with 
politics. 

July 27. — Up and at it this morning, and finished four pages. An 
unpleasant letter from London, as if I might be troubled by some of 
the creditors there, when going to town to get materials for Nap, I 
have no wish to go, — none at all. I would even like to put off my 
visit, so far as John Lockhart and my daughter are concerned, and 
see them when the meeting could be more pleasant. But then, hav- 
ing an offer to see the correspondence from St. Helena, I can make 
no doubt that I ought to go. However, if it is to infer any danger to 
my personal freedom, English wind will not blow on me. It is mon- 
strous hard to prevent me doing what is certainly the best for all 
parties. 

July 28. — I am well-nigh choked with the sulphurous heat of the 
weather — or I am unwell, for I perspire as if I had been walking 
hard, and my hand is as nervous as a paralytic's. Read through and 
corrected St. RonarCs Well. I am no judge, but I think the lan- 
guage of this piece rather good. Then I must allow the fashion- 
able portraits are not the true thing. I am too much out of the 
way to see and remark the ridiculous in society. The story is ter- 
ribly contorted and unnatural, and the catastrophe is melancholy, 

i Dr. John Jamieson, formerly minister to a ficiated for forty-three years; he died in his 
Secession congregation in Forfar, removed to a house in 4 George Square in 1838, aged seventy- 
like charge in Edinburgh in 1795, where he of- nine. 



1826.J JOURNAL 151 

which should always be avoided. No matter ; I have corrected it for 
the press.' ■£^' 

The worthy LexicograpHer left us to-day. Somewhat ponderous 
he is, poor soul ! but there are excellent things about him. 

Action and Reaction — Scots' proverb: "the unrest (i.e. pendulum) 
of a clock goes aye as far the ae gait as the t'^ other. ^^ 

Walter's account of his various quarters per last despatch. Query 
if original :- — 

"Loughrea is a blackguard place 

To Gort I give my curse; 
Athlone itself is bad enough, 

But Ballinrobe is worse. 
I cannot tell which is the worst. 

They're all so very bad; 
But of all towns I ever saw. 

Bad luck to Kinnegad." 

Old Mr. Haliburton dined with us, also Colonel Russell. What a man 
for fourscore or thereby is Old Haly — an Indian too. He came home 
in 1785. 

July 29. — Yesterday I wrought little, and light work, almost sti- 
fled by the smothering heat. To-day I wrought about half task in 
the morning, and, as a judgment on me I think for yesterday's sloth, 
Mr. H. stayed unusually late in the forenoon. He is my friend, my 
father's friend, and an excellent, sensible man besides ; and a man of 
eighty and upwards may be allowed to talk long, because in the nat- 
ure of things he cannot have long to talk. If I do a task to-day, I 
hope to send a good parcel on Monday and keep tryst pretty well. 

July 30. — I did better yesterday than I had hoped for — four in- 
stead of three pages, which, considering how my time was cut up by 
prolonged morning lounging with friend Haly, was pretty fair. I 
wrote a good task before eleven o'clock, but then my good friends 
twaddled and dawdled for near two hours before they set off. The 
time devoted to hospitality, especially to those whom I can reckon 
upon as sincere good friends, I never grudge, but like to " welcome 
the coming, speed the parting guest." By my will every guest should 
part at half -past ten, or arrange himself to stay for the day. 

We had a long walk in a sweltering hot day. Met Mr. Blackwood 
coming to call, and walked him on with us, so blinked his visit— ^ra- 
tias, domine ! ! Asked him for breakfast to-morrow to make amends. 
I rather over-walked myself — the heat considered. 

July 31. — I corrected six sheets and sent them off, with eight 
leaves of copy, so I keep forward pretty well. Blackwood the book- 
seller came over from Chiefswood to breakfast, and this kept me idle 
till eleven o'clock. At twelve I went out with the girls in the socia- 

• This novel was passing through the press in 8vo, 12mo, and 18mo, to complete collective 
editions in these sizes.— j. g. l. 



152 JOURNAL [July, 1826. 

ble, and called on the family at Bemerside, on Dr.^ and Mrs. Brew- 
ster, and Mr. Bainbridge at Gattonside House. It was five ere we got 
home, so there was a day dished, unless the afternoon does something 
for us. I am keeping up pretty well, however, and, after all, visitors 
will come, and calls must be made. I must not let Anne forego the 
custom of well-bred society. 

» Afterwards Sir David Brewster. He died at Alleriey House on the Tweed, aged eighty-sev- 
en, on February 10, 1868. 



AUGUST 

August 1. — Yesterday evening did nothing for the idlesse of the 
morning. I was hungry ; eat and drank and became drowsy ; then I 
took to arranging the old plays, of which Terry had brought me about 
a dozen, and dipping into them scrambled through two. One, called 
Michaelmas Term^ full of traits of manners ; and another a sort of 
bouncing tragedy, called the Hector of Germany^ or the Palsgrave."^ 
The last, worthless in the extreme, is, like many of the plays in the be- 
ginning of the seventeenth century, written to a good tune. The dra- 
matic poets of that time seem to have possessed as joint-stock a high- 
ly poetical and abstract tone of language, so that the worst of them 
often remind you of the very best. The audience must have had a 
much stronger sense of poetry in those days than now, since language 
was received and applauded at the Fortune or at the Red Bull, ^ which 
could not now be understood by any general audience in Great Brit- 
ain. This leads far. 

This morning I wrote two hours, then out with Tom Purdie, and 
gave directions about thinning all the plantations above Abbotsford 
properly so called. Came in at one o'clock and now set to work. De- 
bout, debout, LyciscaSy debout.* Finished four leaves. 

August 2. — Well ; and to-day I finished before dinner five leaves', 
more, and I would crow a little about it, but here comes Duty like am 
old housekeeper to an idle chambermaid. Hear her very words : — 

Duty. — Oh ! you crow, do you ? Pray, can you deny that your 
sitting so quiet at work was owing to its raining heavily all the fore- 
noon, and indeed till dinner-time, so that nothing would have stirred 
out that could help it, save a duck or a goose ? I trow, if it had been 
a fine day, by noon there would have been aching of the head, throb- 
bing, shaking, and so forth, to make an apology for going out. 

Egomet Ipse. — And whose head ever throbbed to go out when it 
rained, Mrs. Duty ? 

Duty. — Answer not to me with a fool-born jest, as your poor friend 
Erskine used to say to you when you escaped from his good advice 
under the fire of some silly pun. You smoke a cigar after dinner, 
and I never check you — drink tea, too, which is loss of time ; and 
then, instead of writing me one other page, or correcting those you 

1 By Middleton, 1697. 3 Two London playhouses. — See Knight's^ 

2 The Hector of Germanic, or the Palsgrave Biography of Shakespeare. 
Prime Elector. An Honourable History by 

William Smith. 4to, 1615. * Moli^re's La Princesse EVlide (Prologue). 



154 JOURNAL [August 

have written out, you rollick into the woods till you have not a dry 
thread about you ; and here you sit writing down my words in your 
foolish journal instead of minding my advice. 

Ego. — Why, Mrs. Duty, I would as gladly be friends with [you] 
as Crabbe's^ tradesman fellow with his conscience ; but you should 
have some consideration with human frailty. 

Duty. — Reckon not on that. But, however, good-night for the 
present. I would only recommend to you to think no thoughts in 
which I am not mingled — to read no books in which I have no con- 
cern — to write three sheets of botheration all the six days of the week 
per diem, and on the seventh to send them to the printer. Thus ad- 
vising, I heartily bid you farewell. 

Ego. — Farewell, madam (exit Duty) and be d — d to ye for an un- 
reasonable bitch ! " The devil must be in this greedy gled !" as the 
Earl of Angus said to his hawk ; " will she never be satisfied ?" ^ I 
believe in my soul she is the very hag who haunted the merchant 
Abudah.^ 

I'll have my great chest upstairs exorcised, but first I'll take a 
nap till supper, which must take place within ten minutes. 

August 3. — Wrote half a task in the morning. From eleven till 
half-past eight in Selkirk taking precognitions about a row, and came 
home famished and tired. Now, Mrs. Duty, do you think there is no 
other Duty of the family but yourself? Or can the Sheriff-depute 
neglect his Duty, that the author may mind his ? The thing cannot 
be ; the people of Selkirk must have justice as well as the people of 
England books. So the two Duties may go pull caps about it. My 
conscience is clear. 

August 4. — Wrote to Miss Edgeworth on her sister's marriage, 
which consumed the better part of the morning. I must read for 
Marengo. Item, I must look at the pruning. Item, at the otter hunt ; 
but my hope is constant to make up a good day's task notwithstand- 
ing. Failed in finding the otter, and was tired and slept, and did but 
a poor day's work. 

August 6. — Wrote to-day a very good day's work. Walked to 
Chiefswood, and saw old Mrs. Tytler,* a friend when life was young. 
Her husband, Lord Woodhouselee, was a kind, amiable, and accom- 
plished man ; and when we lived at Lasswade Cottage, soon after my 
marriage, we saw a great deal of the family, who were very kind to us 
as newly entered on the world. ^ Walked home, and worked in the 
evening ; four leaves finished. 

August 1. — My niece Anne leaves us this morning, summoned 

1 See Crabbe's Tale of The Struggles of Con- nain.— See Burgon's Life of P. F. Tytler, 8vo, 
science.— J. g. l. Lond. 1859. Mrs. Tytler died in London, aged 

2 Tales of a Grandfather, Miscell. Prose eighty-four, in 1837. 

Works, vol. xxiii. p. 72. ^ Alexr. Fraser Tytler, 1747-1813. Besides 

3 See Tales of the Genii. The Talisman of his acknowledged works, Lord Woodhouselee 
Oromanes. published anonymously a translation of Schil- 

* Eldest daughter of William Fraser of Bal- ler's Robbers as early as 1792. 



1826.] JOURNAL 155 

back from one scene of distress to another. Her uncle, David Mac- 
culloch, is extremely ill — a paralytic stroke, I fancy. She is a 
charming girl, lady-like in thought and action, and very pleasant in 
society. We are to dine to-day with our neighbours at Gattonside. 
Meantime I will avail myself of my disposition to labour, and work 
instead of journalising. 

Mr. H. Cranstoun^ looked in — a morning call. He is become ex- 
tremely deaf. He gave me a letter from the Countess Purgstall, his 
sister, which I have not the heart to open, so many reproaches I have 
deserved for not writing. It is a sad thing, though, to task eyes as 
hard wrought as mine to keep up correspondence. Dined at Gatton- 
side.' 

August 8. — Wrote my task this morning, and now for walk. Dine 
to-day at Chiefswood ; have company to-morrow. Why, this is dis- 
sipation ! But no matter, Mrs. Duty, if the task is done. " Ay, but," 
says she, " you ought to do something extra — provide against a 
rainy day." Not I, I'll make a rainy day provide against a fair one, 
Mrs. Duty. I write twice as much in bad weather. Seriously, I write 
fully as much as I ought. I do not like this dull aching in the chest 
and the back, and its giving way to exercise shows that it originates 
in remaining too long in a sitting posture. So I'll take the field, while 
the day is good. 

August 9. — I wrote only two leaves to-day, but with as many ad- 
ditions as might rank for three. I had a long and warm walk. Mrs. 
Tytler of Woodhouselee, the Hamiltons, and Colonel Ferguson dined 
here. How many early stories did the old lady's presence recall ! 
She might almost be my mother, yet there we sat, like two people 
of another generation, talking of things and people the rest knew 
nothing of. When a certain period of life is survived, the difference 
of years between the survivors, even when considerable, becomes of 
much less consequence. 

August 10. — Rose early, and wrote hard till two, when I went 
with Anne to Minto. The place, being new to my companion, gave 
her much amusement. We found the Scotts of Harden, etc., and had 
a very pleasant party. I like Lady M. particularly, but missed my 
facetious and lively friend. Lady A[nna] M[aria].^ It is the fashion 
for women and silly men to abuse her as a blue-stocking. If to have 
wit, good sense, and good-humour, mixed with a strong power of 
observing, and an equally strong one of expressing the result, be 
blue, she shall be as blue as they will. Such cant is the refuge of 
persons who fear those who they [think] can turn them into ridicule ; 

1 Henry Cranstoun, elder brother of Lord Hall to have been the prototype of Diana Ver- 
Corehouse and Countess Purgstall. He resided non —" that safest of secret keepers." — See 
for some years near Abbotsford, at the Pavil- Schloss Hainfeld, 8vo, Lond. 1836. 
ion on the Tweed, where he died in 1843, aged 2 The property of Gattonside had been pur- 
eighty-six. An interesting account of Countess chased in 1824 by George Bainbridge of Livor- 
Purgstall is given bv Basil Hall, who was with pool, a keen angler, author of The Fly Fisher's 
her in Styria at her death in 1835. This very Guide, 8vo, Liverpool, 1816. 
early friend of Scott's was thought by Captain 3 Lady Anna Maria Elliot, see ante, p. 86. 



156 JOURNAL [August 

it is a common tficl?: to revenge supposed raillery with good substan- 
tial calumny. Slept at Minto. 

August 11. — I was up as usual, and wrote about two leaves, mean- 
ing to finish my task at home ; but found my Sheriff-substitute' here 
on my return, which took up the evening. But I shall finish the vol- 
ume on Sunday ; that is less than a month after beginning it. The 
same exertion would bring the book out at Martinmas, but December 
is a better time. 

August 12. — Wrote a little in the morning ; then Duty and I have 
settled that this is to be a kind of holiday, providing the volume be 
finished to-morrow. I went to breakfast at Chiefswood, and after 
that affair was happily transacted, I wended me merrily to the Black 
Cock Stripe, and there caused Tom Purdie and John Swanston cut out 
a quantity of firs. Got home about two o'clock, and set to correct a 
set of proofs. James Ballantyne presages well of this work, but is 
afraid of inaccuracies — so am I — but things must be as they may. 
There is a kind of glamour about me, which sometimes makes me 
read dates, etc., in the proof-sheets, not as they actually do stand, 
but as they ought to stand. I wonder if a pill of holy trefoil would 
dispel this fascination. 

By the way, John Swanston measured a young shoot that was grow- 
ing remarkably, and found that for three days successively it grew 
half an inch every day. Fine-ear'' used to hear the grass grow — how 
far off would he have heard this extravagant rapidity of vegetation ? 
The tree is a silver fir or spruce in the patch at the Green-tongue 
part:. 

August 13. — Yesterday I was tired of labouring in the rough 
ground. Well, I must be content to feel my disabilities increase. 
One sure thing is, that all wise men will soon contrive to lay aside in- 
clination when performance grows toilsome. I have hobbled over 
many a rough heugh in my day — no wonder if I must sing at last — 

" Thus says the auld man to the aik tree, 
Sair failed, hinny, since I kenn'd thee." 

But here are many a mile of smooth walk, just when I grow unable 
to face bent and brae, and here is the garden when all fails. To a 
sailor the length of his quarter-deck is a good space of exercising 
ground. 

I wrote a good task to-day, then walked to the lake, then came 
back by three o'clock, hungering and thirsting to finish the volume. 
I have seldom such fits of voluntary industry, so Duty shall have the 
benefit. 

Finished volume iv. this evening — JDeo Gratias. 

August 14. — This is a morning I have not seen many a day, for 
it appears to set in for a rainy day. It has not kept its word though. 

» W. Scott of Maxpopple. ^ In the fairy tale of Countess D'Aulnoy.— 

Fo7-tunio. 



1826.] JOURNAL ISt 

I was seized by a fit of the " clevers," and finished my task by 
twelve o'clock, and hope to add something in the evening. I was 
guilty, however, of some waywardness, for I began volume v. of Boney 
instead of carrying on the Canongate as I proposed. The reason, how- 
ever, was that I might not forget the information I had acquired 
about the Treaty of Amiens. 

August 15. — The weather seems decidedly broken. Yesterday, 
indeed, cleared up, but this day seems to persevere in raining. Na- 
boclish ! It's a rarity nowadays. I write on, though a little afflicted 
with the oppression on my chest. Sometimes I think it is something 
dangerous, but as it always goes away on change of posture, it 
cannot be speedily so. I want to finish my task, and then good- 
night. I will never relax my labour in these affairs, either for fear 
of pain or love of life. I will die a free man, if hard working 
will do it. Accordingly, to-day I cleared the ninth leaf, which is 
the tenth part of a volume, in two days — four and a half leaves 
a day. Walter and Jane, with Mrs. Jobson, are arrived to inter- 
rupt me. 

August 16. — God be praised for restoring to me my dear chil- 
dren in good health, which has made me happier than anything that 
has happened these several months. Walter and Jane appear cordial 
and happy in each other ; the greatest blessing Heaven can bestow on 
them or me who witness it. If we had Lockhart and Sophia, there 
would be a meeting of the beings dearest to me in life. Walked to» 
Huntly Burn, where I found a certain lady on a visit — so youthy, so' 
beautiful, so strong in voice — with sense and learning — above all, so 
fond of good conversation, that, in compassion to my eyes, ears, and 
understanding, I bolted in the middle of a tremendous shower of rain, 
and rather chose to be wet to the skin than to be bethumped with 
words at that rate. There seemed more than I of the same opinion, 
for Col. Ferguson chose the ducking rather than the conversation. 
Young Mr. Surtees came this evening. 

August 17. — Wrote half a leaf short of my task, having proofs, 
etc., to correct, and being called early to walk with the ladies. I 
have gained three leaves in the two following days, so I cannot blame 
myself. Sat cito si sat bene. Sat honi I am sure — I may say — a 
truly execrable pun that ; hope no one will find it out. 

In the evening we had music from the girls, and the voice of the 
harp and viol were heard in my halls once more, which have been so 
long deprived of mirth. It is with a mixed sensation I hear these 
sounds. I look on my children and am happy ; and yet every now 
and then a pang shoots across my heart. It seems so strange that 
my poor wife should not be there. But enough of this. Colonel 
Ferguson dined. 

August 18. — Again I fell a half page behind, being summoned out 
too early for my task, but I am still two leaves before on the whole 
week. It is natural to see as much of these young people as I can. 



158 JOURNAL [August 

Walter talks of the Ionian Islands. It is an awful distance. A long 
walk in very warm weather. Music in the evening. 

August 19. — This morning wTote none, excepting extracts, etc., 
being under the necessity of reading and collating a great deal, 
which lasted till one o'clock or thereabouts, when Dr. and Mrs. 
Brewster and their young people came to spend a day of happiness 
at the lake. AYe were met there by Captain and Mrs. Hamilton and 
a full party. Since the days of Seged, Emperor of Ethiopia,* these 
days of appointed sport and happiness have seldom answered ; but 
we came off indifferently well. We did not indeed catch much fish ; 
but we lounged about in a delightful day, eat and drank — and the 
children, who are very fine infantry, were clamorously enjoying them- 
selves. We sounded the loch in two or three different places — the 
deepest may be sixty feet. I was accustomed to think it much more, 
but your deepest pools, like your deepest politicians and philoso- 
phers, often turn out more shallow than was expected. The whole 
party dine with us. 

August 20. — Wrote four leaves. The day wet and rainy, though 
not uniformly so. No temptation, however, to play truant ; so this 
will make some amends for a blank day yesterday. I am far in 
advance of the press, but it is necessary if I go to Drumlanrig on 
Wednesday as I intend, and to Lochore next w^eek, which I also 
meditate. This will be no great interruption, however, if I can keep 
the Canongate moving, for I shall be more than half a volume in 
advance with Napoleon. 

August 21. — Wrought out my task, though much bothered with 
a cold in my head and face, how caught I know not. Mrs. Cramp- 
ton, wife of the Surgeon-GeneraP in Ireland, sends to say she is here- 
abouts, so we ask her. Hospitality must not be neglected, and most 
hospitable are the Cramptons. All the " calliachs "^ from Huntly 
Burn are to be here, and Anne wishes we may have enough of din- 
ner. Naboclish ! it is hoped there will be a piece de resistance. 

August 22. — Mrs. and Misses Crampton departed. I was rather 
sorry to give them such brief entertainment, for they were extremely 
kind. But going to Eildon Hall to-day, and to Drumlanrig to-mor- 
row, there was nothing more could be done for them. It is raining 
now " successfully,'''' as old Macfarlane of the Arroquhar used to say. 
What is the odds ? We get a soaking before we cross the Birken- 
dailly — wet against dry, ten to one. 

August 23 [Bittock'^s Bridge']. — Set off cheerily with Walter, 
Charles, and Surtees in the sociable, to make our trip to Drumlanrig. 
We breakfasted at Mr. Boyd's, Broadmeadows, and were received 
with Yarrow hospitality. From thence climbed the Yarrow, and 

1 See Johnson's Rambler, Nos. 204 and 205. had met, not in person only, but in the liveli- 

2 Afterwards Sir Philip Crampton. "The ness and range of his talk. " — Xi/e, vol. viii. p. 
Surgeon-General struck Sir Walter as being 23. 

more like Sir Humphry Davy than any man he ' Gaelic for " old women." 



1826.] JOURNAL 159 

skirted Saint Mary's Lake, and ascended tlie Birkhill path, under the 
moist and misty influence of the genius loci. Never mind ; my com- 
panions were merry and I cheerful. When old people can be with 
the young without fatiguing them or themselves, their tempers de- 
rive the same benefits which some fantastic physicians of old sup- 
posed accrued to their constitutions from the breath of the young 
and healthy. You have not, cannot again have, their gaiety of pleas- 
ure in seeing sights, but still it reflects itself upon you, and you are 
cheered and comforted. Our luncheon eaten in the herd's cottage ; 
but the poor woman saddened me unawares, by asking for poor 
Charlotte, whom she had often seen there with me. She put me in 
mind that I had come twice over those hills and bogs with a wheeled- 
carriage, before the road, now an excellent one, was made. I knew it 
was true ; but, on my soul, looking where we must have gone, I could 
hardly believe I had been such a fool. For riding, pass if you will ; 
but to put one's neck in such a venture with a wheeled-carriage was 
too silly. Here we are, however, at Bittock's Inn for this night. 

Drumlanrig, August 24. — This morning lunched at Parkgate un- 
der a very heavy shower, and then pushed on to Drumlanrig, where I 
was pleased to see the old Castle, and old servants solicitous and 
anxious to be civil. What visions does not this magnificent old 
house bring back to me ! The exterior is much improved since I 
first knew it. It was then in the state of dilapidation to which it had 
been abandoned by the celebrated old Q.,^ and was indeed scarce 
wind and water tight. Then the whole wood had been felled, and 
the outraged castle stood in the midst of waste and desolation, ex- 
cepting a few scattered old stumps, not judged worth the cutting. 
Now the whole has been, ten or twelve years since, completely re- 
planted, and the scattered seniors look as graceful as fathers sur- 
rounded by their children. The face of this immense estate has 
been scarcely less wonderfully changed. The scrambling tenants, 
who held a precarious tenure of lease under the Duke of Queens- 
berry, at the risk (as actually took place) of losing their possession at 
his death, have given room to skilful and labouring men, working 
their farms regularly, and enjoying comfortable houses and their 
farms at a fair rent, which is enough to forbid idleness, but not 
enough to overpower industry. 

August 25. — Here are Lord and Lady Home,'^ Charles Douglas,' 
Lord and Lady Charlotte Stopford.* I grieve to say the last, though 

* William Douglas, fourth Duke of Queens- also George Selwyn and his Contemporaries, 4 

berry, succeeded, on the death of his kinsman, vols. 8vo, I.ond. 1843-4. 

Duke Charles, in 1778. He died in 1810 at the 2 Alexander, tenth Earl of Home, and his 

age of eighty-six, when his titles and estates wife, Lady Elizabeth, daughter of Henry, third 

were divided between the Duke of Buccleuch, Duke of Bucclcuch. 

Lord Douglas, the Marquis of Queensberry, and 3 Charles, second son of Archibald Lord 

the Earl of Wemyss. Douglas. 

See Wordsworth's indignant lines beginning; * James Thomas, Viscount Stopford, after- 
wards fourth Earl of Courtowu, and his wife, 

" Degenerate Douglas, oh the unworthy Lord " ; Lady Charlotte, Sister of the then Duke Of 



160 JOURNAL [August 

as beautiful as ever, is extremely thin, and looks delicate. The Duke 
himself has grown up into a graceful and apparently strong young 
man, and received us most kindly. I think he will be well qualified 
to sustain his difficult and important task. The heart is excellent, so 
are the talents, — good sense and knowledge of the world, picked up 
at one of the great English schools (and it is one of their most im- 
portant results), will prevent him from being deceived ; and with 
perfect good-nature, he has a natural sense of his own situation, 
which will keep him from associating with unworthy companions. 
God bless him ! His father and I loved each other well, and his 
beautiful mother had as much of the angel as is permitted to walk 
this earth. I see the balcony from which they welcomed poor 
Charlotte and me, long ere the ascent was surmounted, streaming out 
their white handkerchiefs from the battlements. There were four 
merry people that day — now one sad individual is all that remains. 
Singula praedantur anni. I had a long walk to-day through the new 
plantation, the Duchess's Walk by the Mth, etc. (formed by Prior's 
Kitty young and gay ^) ; fell in with the ladies, but their donkeys 
outwalked me — a flock of sheep afterwards outwalked me, and I be- 
gin to think, on my conscience, that a snail put in training might 
soon outwalk me. I must lay the old salve to the old sore, and be 
thankful for being able to walk at all. 

Nothing was written to-day, my writing-desk having been forgot 
at Parkgate, but Tom Crighton kindly fetched it up to-day, so some- 
thing more or less may be done to-morrow morning — and now to 
dress. 

[Bittock'^s Bridge,'] August 26. — We took our departure from the 
friendly halls of Drumlanrig this morning after breakfast and leave- 
taking. I trust this young nobleman will be 

"A hedge about his friends, 
A hackle to his foes." ^ 

I would have him not quite so soft-natured as his grandfather, whose 
kindness sometimes mastered his excellent understanding. His father 
had a temper which better jumped with my humour. Enough of ill- 
nature to keep your good-nature from being abused is no bad ingre- 
dient in their disposition who have favours to bestow.^ 

In coming from Parkgate here I intended to accomplish a purpose 

Buccleuch, at that time still in his minority. had sung her "mad Grace's" praises, Walpole 
Lady Charlotte died within eighteen months added those two lines to the Female Phaeton — 
of this date. 

" To many a Kittj- Love his car, will for a day en^a^e, 
^ "Thus Kitty, beautiful and young, B"' Pridr's Kitty, ever fair, obtained it for an age." 

And wild" as colt untamed." oit. j- j ^ i -.^r.,, -r-, i , . 

Prior'3 Female Phaeton. She died at a great age m 1777. For her let- 
ter to George ii. when forbid the Court, see 

Catherine Hyde, daughter of Henry Earl of Agar Ellis, Histofical Inquiries, Lond. 1827, 

Clarendon, and wife of Charles Duke of Queens- p. -10. 

berry. She was the friend of Gay, and her 2 Ballad on young Rob Roy's abduction of 

beauty, wit, and oddities have been celebrated Jean Key, Cromek's Collections. — j. g. l. 

in prose and rhyme by the wits and poets of ^ See Letter to C. K. Sharpe, from Drumlau- 

two generations. Fifty-six years after Prior rig, vol. ii. pp. 369-71. 



1826.] JOURNAL 161 

which I have for some years entertained, of visiting Lochwood, the 
ancient seat of the Johnstones, of which King James said, when he 
visited it, that the man who built it must have been a thief in his 
heart. It rained heavily, however, which prevented my making this 
excursion, and indeed I rather overwalked myself yesterday, and have 
occasion for rest. 

" So sit down, Robin, and rest thee." 

Abbotsford, August 27. — To-day we journeyed through the hills 
and amongst the storms ; the weather rather bullying than bad. We 
viewed the Grey Mare's Tail, and I still felt confident in crawling 
along the ghastly bank by which you approach the fall. I will cer- 
tainly get some road of application to Mr. Hope Johnstone, to pray 
him to make the place accessible. We got home before half-past 
five, having travelled forty miles. 

Blair- Adam, August 28. — Set off with Walter and Jane at seven 
o'clock, and reached this place in the middle of dinner-time. By 
some of my not unusual blunders we had come a day before we were 
expected. Luckily, in this ceremonious generation, there are still 
houses where such blunders only cause a little raillery, and Blair- 
Adam is one of them. My excellent friend is in high health and 
spirits, to which the presence of Sir Frederick adds not a little.^ His 
lady is here — a beautiful woman, whose countenance realises all the 
poetic dreams of Byron. There is certainly [a] something of full 
maturity of beauty which seems framed to be adoring and adored, 
and it is to be found in the full dark eye, luxuriant tresses, and rich 
complexion of Greece, and not among the pale unripened beauties of 
the north. What sort of a mind this exquisite casket may contain 
is not so easily known. She is anxious to please, and willing to be 
pleased, and, with her striking beauty, cannot fail to succeed. 

August 29, — To-day we designed to go to Lochore. But " heigho ! 
the wind and the rain." Besides Mrs. and Admiral Adam, Mrs. Loch, 
and Miss Adam, I find here Mr. Impey, son of that Sir Elijah cele- 
brated in Indian history. He has himself been in India, but has, with 
a great deal of sense and observation, much better address than al- 
ways falls to the share of the Eastern adventurer. The art of quiet 
and entertaining conversation, which is always easy as well as enter- 
taining, is chiefly known in England. In Scotland we are pedantic 
and wrangle, or we run away with the harrows on some topic we 
chance to be discursive upon. In Ireland they have too much vivaci- 
ty, and are too desirous to make a show, to preserve the golden mean. 
They are the Gascons of Britain. George Ellis was the best converser 
I ever knew ; his patience and good breeding made me often ashamed 
of myself going off at score upon some favourite topic. Richard Sharp 

J Sir Frederick Adam, son of the Chief Com- subsequently Governor of Madras; he died in 
missioner — a distinguished soldiei", afterwards 1853. 
High Commissioner of the Ionian Islands, and 
11 



162 JOURNAL [August, 1826. 

is so celebrated for this peculiar gift as to be generally called Conver- 
sation Sharp.' The worst of this talent is that it seems to lack sin- 
cerity. You never know what are the real sentiments of a good con- 
verser, or at least it is very difficult to discover to what extent he 
entertains them. His politeness is inconsistent with energy. For 
forming a good converser, good taste and extensive information and 
accomplishment are the principal requisites, to which must be added 
an easy and elegant delivery and a well-toned voice. I think the 
higher order of genius is not favourable to this talent. 

Mrs. Impey, an intelligent person, likes music, and particularly 
Scotch airs, which few people play better than Mrs. Lockhart and 
Miss Louisa Adam. Had a letter from Mr. AVilliam Upcott, London 
Institution, proposing to me to edit an edition of Garrick's Corre- 
spondence, which I declined by letter of this day. Thorough de- 
cided downfall of rain. Nothing for it but patience and proof-sheets. 

August 30. — The weather scarce permitted us more licence than 
yesterday, yet we went down to Lochore, and Walter and I perambu- 
lated the property, and discussed the necessity of a new road from 
the south-west, also that of planting some willows along the ditches 
in the low grounds. Returned to Blair- Adam to dinner. 

Ahhotsford, August 31. — Left Blair at seven in the morning. 
Transacted business with Cadell and Ballantyne, but our plans will, I 
think, be stopped or impeded by the operations before the Arbiter, 
Mr. Irving, who leans more to the side of the opposite [party] than I 
expected. I have a letter from Gibson, found on my arrival at Ab- 
botsford, which gives rather a gloomy account of that matter. It 
seems strange that I am to be bound to write for men who have 
broken every bargain with me. 

Arrived at Abbotsford at eight o'clock at night. 

1 Mr. Richard Sharp published in 1834 a very Review. 102.— j. g. l. He had been :Member of 
elegant and interesting little volume of Letters Parliament from 1806 to 1820, and died on the 
and Essays, in Prose and Verse.— See Quarterly 30th of March, 1835, at the age of seventy-six. 



SEPTEMBER 

September 1. — Awaked with a headache, which the reconsideration 
of Gibson's news did not improve. We save Bonaparte however, and 
that is a great thing. I will not be downcast about it, let the worst 
come that can ; but I wish I saw that worst. It is the devil to be strug- 
gling forward, like a man in the mire, and making not an inch by 
your exertions, and such seems to be my fate. Well ! I have much 
to comfort me, and I will take comfort. If there be further wrath to 
come, I shall be glad that I bear it alone. Poor Charlotte was too 
much softened by prosperity to look adverse circumstances courage- 
ously in the face. Anne is young, and has Sophia and Jane to trust 
to for assistance. 

September 2. — Wrote this morning, but only two pages or there- 
abouts. At twelve o'clock set out with Anne and Walter to visit at 
Makerstoun, but the road between Makerstoun and Merton being very 
bad, we drove, I dare say, thirty miles in going and coming, by a cir- 
cuitous route, and only got home at half-past seven at night. Saw 
Lady Brisbane Makdougall, but not Sir Thomas.^ Thought of old Sir 
Henry and his older father Sir George. Received a box of Australian 
seeds, forwarded by Andrew Murray, now head-gardener to the Gover- 
nor, whom I detected a clever boy, among my labourers in 1812, and 
did a little for him. It is pleasant to see men thrive and be grateful 
at the same time, so good luck to " Andrew Mora," as we called him. 

September 3. — Made up my necessary task for yesterday and to- 
day also, but not more, writing very heavily. Cousin Archie Swinton 
came to dinner. We had a dish of cousinred of course — and of auld 
lang syne."^ 

September 4. — Archie Swinton left us this morning early. I wrote 
from seven to half-past two ; but, partly that I had five proof-sheets 
to correct, partly that like old John Fraser^ " I was not very cleever to- 
day," I made out but a page and a half. 

September 5. — Wrote task and half a page more. Terry arrived 
and brought with him a Mr. Bruce, from Persia, with an introduction, 

' Sir Thomas Brisbane, who had formerly 2 Foranaccountof this family see rAg<S'tyin- 
commanded a brigade in the Peninsula. In tons of that Ilk and their Cadets, 4to, 1883, a 
1832 he succeeded Sir Walter Scott as Presi- privately printed volume by A. C. Swinton of 
dent of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. Sir Kimmergbame. In a letter to his friend Swin- 
Thomas had married in 1819 a daughter of ton in 1814, Scott says that he had been read- 
Sir Henry Hay Makdougall of Makerstoun, ing the family pedigree "to my exceeding re- 
Bart. Sir Thomas died at Brisbane House, freshraent." 
Ayrshire, in January, 1860, in the eighty-sev- 
enth year of his age. 3 One of the Abbotsford labourers. 



164 JOURNAL [Sept. 

forsooth, from Mr. Blackwood. I will move a quo warranto against 
this species of introdaction ; and the good gentleman is to be here, 
he informs me, for two days. He is a dark, foreign-looking man, 
of small stature, and rather blunt manners, which may be easily ac- 
counted for by his having been in the East for thirty years. He has 
a considerable share of information, and made good play after dinner. 
September 6. — Walter being to return to Ireland for three weeks 
set off to-day, and has taken Surtees and Charles with him. I fear 
this is but a wild plan, but the prospect seemed to make them so hap- 
py that I could not find in my heart to say " No " sufficiently peremp- 
torily. So away they all went this morning to be as happy as they 
can. Youth is a fine carver and gilder. Went doAvn to Huntly Burn, 
and dawdled about while waiting for the carriage to bring me back. 
Mr. Bruce and Colonel Ferguson pottered away about Persia and In- 
dia, and I fell asleep by the fireside. Here is a fine spate of work — 
a day diddled away, and nothing to show for it ! I must write letters 
now, there is nothing else for it. But — yaw — yaw — I must take a nap 
first. I had a letter from Jem Ballantyne, plague on him ! full of re- 
monstrance, deep and solemn, upon the carelessness of Bonaparte. The 
rogue is right too. But as to correcting my style to the 

"* " .Temmy jemmy linkum feedle " 

tune of what is called fine writing, Pll be d — d if I do. Drew £12 
in favour of Charles for his Irish jaunt ; same time exhorted him to 
make himself as expensive to Walter, in the way of eating and drink- 
ing, as he could. Mr. and Mrs. Impey arrived to dinner. 

September 7. — Mr. Bruce, the bastinadoed, left us this morning 
promising wine from Shiraz and arms from India. From our joint 
observation he must be a half-caste, probably half an Arab. He told 
us of his having been taken by pirates in the Arabian Gulf, and hav- 
ing received two thousand bastinadoes on the soles of his feet, after 
which he was buried in a heap of dung by way of cure. Though the 
matter was certainly serious enough to the sufferer, yet it excited our 
suppressed, or scarce suppressed, mirth. Alas ! let never traveller tell 
any distress which borders on the ludicrous if he desires to excite the 
sympathy of the audience. 

Another thing he mentioned was the mode of seasoning timber 
for shipbuilding in the Arabian Gulf. They bury it in the sand 
within water-mark, and leave it exposed to the flux and reflux of the 
tide for six months at least, but often for twelve or eighteen. The 
tendency to vegetation which produces the dry-rot is thus prevented 
effectually, and the ships built of this wood last for twenty years. 

We drove to Ashestiel in the morning, after I had written a good 
task, or nearly so (nay, I lie, it wanted half a page), and passed a 
pleasant day. Terry read Bobadil in the evening, which he has, I 
think, improved. 



1826.] JOURNAL 165 

September 8. — I have rubbed up, by collation with Mr. Impey, Sir 
Frederick Adam's idea of the Greeks. He deeply regrets the present 
war as premature, undertaken before knowledge and rational educa- 
tion had extended themselves sufficiently. The neighbourhood of the 
Ionian Islands was fast producing civilisation ; and as knowledge is 
power, it is clear that the example of Europeans, and the opportuni- 
ties of education thereby afforded, must soon have given them an im- 
mense superiority over the Turk. This premature war has thrown all 
back into a state of barbarism. It was precipitated by the agents of 
Russia. Sir Frederick spoke most highly of Byron, the soundness of 
his views, the respect in which he was held — his just ideas of the 
Grecian cause and character, and the practical and rational wishes 
which he formed for them. Singular that a man whose conduct in 
his own personal affairs had been anything but practical should be 
thus able to stand by the helm of a sinking state ! Sir Frederick 
thinks he might have done much for them if he had lived. The ran- 
tipole friends of liberty, who go about freeing nations with the same 
success which Don Quixote had in redressing wrongs, have, of course, 
blundered everything which they touched. The Impeys left us to-day, 
and Captain Hugh Scott and his lady arrived. Task is bang-up. 

September 9. — I begin to fear Nap. will swell to seven volumes. 
I have a long letter from James B. threatening me with eight ; but 
that is impossible. The event of his becoming Emperor is the central 
point of his history. Now I have just attained it, and it is the centre 
of the third volume. Two volumes and a half may be necessary to 
complete the whole. Walked with Hugh Scott up the Rhymer's Glen, 
and round by the lake. Mr. Bainbridge of Gattonside House dined, 
also Colonel Ferguson. Was bang-up to my task again this day. 

September 10. — Corrected proof-sheets in the morning, then im- 
mured myself to write, the more willingly that the day seemed show- 
ery ; but I found myself obliged to read and study the map so much 
that I did not get over half a sheet written. Walked with Hugh Scott 
through Haxell Cleuch. Great pleasure to show the young wood to 
any who understands them well. 

September 11. — Jane and her mother go into town this morning, 
and Anne with them, to look out a lodging for us during the time 
we must pass in town. It seems strange to have this to do, having 
had always my father's house or my own to go to. But — Sic transit 
gloria mundi. 

Well, it is half -past twelve o'clock, and at length having regulated 
all disappointments as to post-horses, and sent three or four servants 
three or four miles to remedy blunders, which a little forethought 
might have prevented, my family and guests are separated — 

" Like youthful steers let loose, east, north, and south."* 
» 2 Henry IV. Act iv. Sc. 2. 



166 JOURNAL [Sept. 

Miss Miln goes to Stirling ; the Scotts to Lessiidden ; Anne and 
Jane to Edinburgh ; and I am left alone. I must needs go up and 
see some operations about the spring which supplies us with water, 
though I calculate my presence is not very necessary. So now — to 
work — to work. 

But I reckoned without my host, or, I should rather say, without 
my guest. Just as I had drawn in my chair, fitted a new " Bramah " 
on the stick, and was preparing to feague it away, I had a call from 
the son of an old friend, Mr. Waldie of Henderland. As he left me, 
enter young Whytbank and Mr. Auriol Hay* of the Lyon Office, and 
w€ had a long armorial chat together, which lasted for some time — 
then the library was to be looked at, etc. So, when they went away, 
I had little better to do than to walk up to the spring which they are 
digging, and to go to my solitary dinner on my return. 

September 12. — Notwithstanding what is above said, I made out 
my task yesterday, or nearly so, by working after dinner. After all, 
these interruptions are not such bad things ; they make a man keen 
of the work which he is withheld from, and differ in that point much 
from the indulgence of an indisposition to labour in your own mind, 
which increases by indulgence. Les fdcheux seldom interrupt your 
purpose absolutely and entirely — you stick to it for contradiction's 
sake. 

AVell, I visited the spring in the morning, and completed my task 
afterwards. As I slept for a few minutes in my chair, to which I am 
more addicted than I could wish, I heard, as I thought, my poor wife 
call me by the familiar name of fondness which she gave me. My 
recollections on waking were melancholy enough. These be 

"The airy tongues that syllable men's names." ^ 

All, I believe, have some natural desire to consider these unusual im- 
pressions as bodements of good or evil to come. But alas ! this is a 
prejudice of our own conceit. They are the empty echoes of what is 
past, not the foreboding voice of what is to come. 

I dined at the Club to-day at Selkirk, and acted as croupier. 
There were eighteen dined ; young men chiefly, and of course young- 
talk. But so it has been, will be, and must be. 

September 13. — Wrote my task in the morning, and thereafter 
had a letter from that sage Privy Councillor and booby of a Baron- 
et, . This unutterable idiot proposes to me that I shall propose 

to the Dowager Duchess of , and offers his own right honourable 

intervention to brino^ so beautiful a business to bear. I am struck 



1 Mr. E. W. Auriol Drummond Hay, heir- two years Secretary to the Society of Antiqua- 

presumptive at one time of Lord Kinnoul, was ries before his departure as Consul General to 

then residing in Edinburgh, owing to his offi- the Barbary States. He died at Tangier on the 

cial duties in the Lyon Ofilce; he took a great Ist March, 18i5. 

interest in archaeological matters, and was for » Milton's Comm, v. 208.— J. G. L. 



1826.] JOURNAL 167 

dumb with the assurance of his folly — absolutely muie and speech- 
less — and how to prevent him making me further a fool is not easy, 
for the wretch has left me no time to assure him of the absurdity of 
what he proposes ; and if he should ever hint at such a piece of d — d 
impertinence, what must the lady think of my conceit or of my feel- 
ings ! I will write to his present quarters, however, that he may, if 
possible, have warning not to continue this absurdity.^ 

Dined at Major Scott, my cousin's, where was old Lord Buchan. 
He, too, is a prince of Bores, but age has tamed him a little, and like 
the giant Pope in the Pilgrim's Progress, he can only sit and grin at 
Pilgrims as they go past, and is not able to cast a fank^ over them as 
formerly. A few quiet puns seem his most formidable infliction 
nowadays. 

September 14. — I should not have forgotten, among the memora- 
bilia of yesterday, that Mr. Nasmyth, the dentist, and his family called, 
and I showed them the lions, for truly he that has rid a man of the 
toothache is well entitled to command a part of his time. Item, two 
young Frenchmen made their way to our sublime presence in guerdon 
of a laudatory copy of French verses sent up the evening before, by 
way of "Open Sesame," I suppose. I have not read them, nor shall 
L No man that ever wrote a line despised the pap of praise so 
heartily as I do. There is nothing I scorn more, except those who 
think the ordinary sort of praise or censure is matter of the least 
consequence. People have almost always some private view of dis- 
tinguishing themselves, or of gratifying their curiosity — some point, 
in short, to carry, with which you have no relation, when they take 
the trouble to praise you. In general, it is their purpose to get the 
person praised to puff away in return. To me their rank praises no 
more make amends for their bad poetry than tainted butter would 
pass off stale fish. 

September 15. — Many proofs to correct and dates to compare. 
What signify dates in a true story ? I was fidgety after breakfast, 
owing to perusing some advices from J. Gibson, poor fellow. I will 
not be discouraged, come of things what will. However, I could not 
write continuously, but went out by starts, and amused myself by 
cutting trees in the avenue. Thus I dawdled till Anne and Jane 
came home with merry faces, and raised my spirits of course. After 
tea I e'en took heart of grace and finished my task, as I now do this 
day's journal. 

September 16. — Worked hard to-day, and in morning and evening 
made out five pages and a half, as much perhaps as one should at- 
tempt, yet I was not overworked. On the contrary, went out with 
Tom about one o'clock and cut trees, etc., to clear the avenue ; and 

* Lady Scott had not been quite four months had never had any intimacy. This was not the 

dead, and the entry of the preceding day shows only proposition of the kind that reached him 

how extremely ill-timed was this communica- during his widowhood.— j. G. l. 

tion from a gentleman with whom Sir Walter 2 a coil of rope. 



168 JOURNAL [Sept. 

favour tlie o-rowth of such trees as are desio^ned for standards. I re- 
ceived visits too — the Laird of Bemerside/ who had been for nine 
years in Italy with his family — also the Laird of Kippielaw. Anne 
and Jane drove up and called at the Haining. 

I expected James Ballantyne to dinner as he proposed, bat the 
worthy typographer appeared not. He is sometimes inaccurate in 
keeping such appointments, w^hich is not according to the " Academy 
of compliments." But in the letter which announced his intended 
visit, he talked of having received himself a visit from the Cholera 
Morbus. I shall be very sorry if so unwelcome a guest be the cause 
of the breach of his appointment. 

September 17. — Rather surprised with a letter from Lord Melville, 
informing me that he and Mr. Peel had put me into the Commission 
for inquiring into the condition of the Colleges in Scotland. I know 
little on the subject, but I dare say as much as some of the official 
persons who are inserted of course. The want of efficient men is the 
reason alleged. I must of course do my best, though I have little 
hope of being useful, and the time it will occupy is half ruinous to 
me, to whom time is everything. Besides, I suppose the honour is 
partly meant as an act of grace for Malachi. I shall never repent of 
that escapade, although it offended persons for the time whose good 
opinion I value. J. B. continues ill at Teviot Grove, as they call it. 
I am a little anxious about him. 

I finished my task and an extra page — hope to do another before 
supper. Accomplished the said diligent purpose. 

September 18. — Rainy and gloomy — that small sifting rain driv- 
ing on an eastern gale which intermits not. Wrote letters to Lord 
Melville, etc., and agreed to act under the Commission. Settled to be 
at Melville Castle, Saturday 24th. I fear this will interfere consum- 
edly with business. I corrected proof-sheets, and wrote a good deal, 
but intend to spend the rest of the day in reading and making notes. 
No bricks to be made without straw. 

[Jedburgh,'] September 19. — Circuit. Went to poor Mr. Short- 
reed's and regretted bitterly the distress of the family, though they 
endeavoured to bear it bravely, and to make my reception as com- 
fortable and even cheerful as possible. My old friend R. S. gave me a 
ring found in a grave at the Abbey, to be kept in memory of his son. 
I will certainly preserve it with especial care.^ 

Many trifles at circuit, chiefly owing to the cheap whisky, as they 
were almost all riots. One case of assault on a deaf and dumb 
woman. She was herself the chief evidence ; but being totally with- 
out education, and having, from her situation, very imperfect notions 
of a Deity, and a future state, no oath could be administered. Mr. 
Kinniburgh, teacher of the deaf and dumb, was sworn interpreter, 

> See Life, vol. x. 95, and The Haigs ofBemer- of elegant taste and attainments, devotedly at- 
syde, 8vo, Edin. 1881, edited by J. Russell. tached to Sir Walter, and much beloved in re- 

■■* Mr. Thomas Shortreed, a young gentleman turn, had recently died.— j. g. l. 



1826.] JOURNAL 169 

together with another person, a neighbour, who knew the accidental 
or conventional signs which the poor thing had invented for herself, 
as Mr. K. was supposed to understand the more general or natural 
signs common to people in such a situation. He went through the 
task with much address, and it was wonderful to see them make 
themselves intelligible to each other by mere pantomime. Still I did 
[not] consider such evidence as much to be trusted to in a criminal 
case. Several previous interviews had been necessary between the 
interpreter and the witness, and this is very much like getting up a 
story. Some of the signs, brief in themselves, of which Mr. K. gave 
long interpretations, put me in mind of Lord Burleigh in the Critic : 
" Did he mean all this by the shake of the head ?" " Yes, if he shook 
his head as I taught him." ^ The man was found not guilty. Mr. K. 
told us of a pupil of his whom he restored, as it may be said, to hu- 
manity, and who told him that his ideas of another world were that 
some great person in the skies lighted up the sun in the morning as 
he saw his mother light her fire, and the stars in the evening as she 
kindled a lamp. He said the witness had ideas of truth and false- 
hood, which was, I believe, true ; and that she had an idea of punish- 
ment in a future state, which I doubt. He confessed she could not 
give any guess at its duration, whether temporary or eternal. I 
should like to know if Mr. K. is in that respect much wiser than his 
pupils. Dined, of course, with Lord Mackenzie, the Judge. 

September 20. — Waked after a restless night, in which I dreamed 
of poor Tom Shortreed. Breakfasted with the Rev. Dr. Somerville.* 
This venerable gentleman is one of the oldest of the literary brother- 
hood — I suppose about eighty-seven, and except a little deafness quite 
entire. Living all his life in good society as a gentleman born — and 
having, besides, professional calls to make among the poor — he must 
know, of course, much that is curious concerning the momentous 
changes which have passed under his eyes. He talks of them accord- 
ingly, and has written something on the subject, but has scarce the 
force necessary to seize on the most striking points, ^^palahras, neigh- 
bour Verges," ^ — gifts which God gives. The bowl that rolls easiest 
along the green goes furthest, and has least clay sticking to it. I 
have often noticed that a kindly, placid good-humour is the compan- 
ion of longevity, and, I suspect, frequently the leading cause of it. 
Quick, keen, sharp observation, with the power of contrast and illus- 
tration, disturbs this easy current of thought. My good friend, the 
venerable Doctor, will not, I think, die of that disease. 

Called at Nesbit Mill on my cousin Charles. His wife received 
me better than I deserved, for I have been a sad neglectful visitor. 
She has a very pleasant countenance. 

1 See Act ni. Sc. 1. tieth year of his age, and sixty-fourth of his 

"^ The Rev. Dr. Thomas Somerville, minister ministry.— j. g. l. Autobiographical Memori- 

of Jedburgh, author of the History of Great als of his Life and Times, 1741-1814, 8vo, Edin- 

Britain during the reign of Queen Anne, and burgh, were published in 1861. 
other works, died 14th May. 1830, in the nine- 3 Much Ado about Nothing, Act in. Sc. 5. 



170 JOURNAL [Sept. 

Some of the Circuit lawyers dined here, namely R. Dundas, Borth- 
wick, the facetious Peter Robertson,^ Mr. R. Adam Dundas, and with 
them Henry Scott of Harden. 

September 21. — Our party breakfasted late, and I was heavy- 
headed, and did not rise till eight. Had drank a little more wine 
than usual, but as our friend Othello says, " that's not much." ^ How- 
ever, we dawdled about till near noon ere all my guests left me. 
Then I walked a little and cut some wood. Read afterwards. I can't 
get on without it. How did I get on before? — that's a secret. Mr. 
Thomas Tod^ and his wife came to dine. We talked of old stories 
and got over a pleasant evening. 

Sejotemher 22. — Still no writing. We have materials to collect. 
D — n you. Mother Duty, hold your tongue ! I tell you, you know 
nothing of the matter. Besides, I corrected five sheets. I wish you 
had to do with some other people, just to teach you the difference. 
I grant that the day being exquisite I went and thinned out the 
wood from the north front of the house. Read and noted a great 
deal. 

September 23. — Wrought in the morning, but only at reading and 
proofs. That cursed battle of Jena is like to cost me more time than 
it did Bonaparte to gain it. I met Colonel Ferguson about one, to 
see his dogs run. It is a sport I have loved well, but now, I know 
not why, I find it little interesting. To be sure I used to gallop, and 
that I cannot now do. W"e had good sport, however, and killed five 
hares. I felt excited during the chase, but the feeling was but mo- 
mentary. My mind was immediately turned to other remembrances, 
and to pondering upon the change which had taken place in my own 
feelings. The day was positively heavenly, and the wild hillside, with 
our little coursing party, was beautiful to look at. Yet I felt like a 
man come from the dead, looking with indifference on that which in- 
terested him while living. So it must be 

" When once life's day is near the gloaming."* ♦ 

We dined at Huntly Burn. Kind and comfortable as usual. 

September 24. — I made a rally to-day and wrote four pages, or 
nearly. Never stirred abroad the whole day, but was made happy after 
dinner by the return of Charles and Surtees full of their Irish jaunt, 
and happy as young men are with the change of scene. To-morrow 
I must go to Melville Castle. I wonder what I can do or say about 
these Universities. One thing occurs — the distribution of bursaries 
only ex meritis. That is, I would have the presentations continue in 

1 Afterwards Judge in the Court of Session Lord Robertson died in 1855. 

from 1843, author of Gleams of Thought reflect- „ . „» ,„ o^ q 

edfrom Milton, etc. It was of this witty and -^^^ ^"- ^''- "*• 

humorousjudge Mr. Lockhart wrote the sport- 3 One of Scott's old High School mates. -^ 

ivehnes:- Zx/e, vol. i. p. 163. 

" Here lies that peerless paper peer Lord Peter, . , -r ^ -zt. 

Who broke the laws of God and man and metre." * Burns'S EpiStU to J. Smith. 



1826.] JOURNAL 111 

the present patrons, but exact that those presented should be quali- 
fied by success in their literary attainments and distinction acquired 
at school to hold these scholarships. This seems to be following out 
the idea of the founders, who, doubtless, intended the furthering of 
good literature. To give education to dull mediocrity is a fling- 
ing of the children's bread to dogs — it is sharpening a hatchet on a 
razor-strop, which renders the strop useless, and does no good to the 
hatchet. Well, something we will do. 

September 25. — Morning spent in making up proofs and copy. 
Set out for Melville Castle with Jane, who goes on to her mother at 
Edinburgh. 

Found Lord and Lady M. in great distress. Their son Robert is 
taken ill at a Russian town about 350 miles from Moscow — danger- 
ously ill. The distance increases the extreme distress of the parents, 
who, however, bore it like themselves. I was glad to spend a day 
upon the old terms with such old friends, and believe my being with 
them, even in this moment of painful suspense, as it did not dimin- 
ish the kindness of my reception, certainly rather seemed to divert 
them from the cruel subject. 

Dr. Nicoll, Principal of St. Andrews, dined — a very gentlemanlike 
sensible man. We spoke of the visitation, of granting degrees, of 
public examinations, of abolishing the election of professors by 
the Senatus Academicus (a most pregnant source of jobs), and 
much beside — but all desultory — and Lord M. had either nothing 
particular to say to me, or was too much engrossed with his family 
distress to enter upon it. He proposes to be here in the end of 
October. 

September 26. — Returned to Abbotsford after breakfast. Here is 
a cool thing of my friend J. W. C[roker]. The Duke of Clarence, 
dining at the Pavilion with the King, happened by choice or circum- 
stance to sit lower than usual at the table, and being at that time on 
bad terms with the Board of Admiralty, took an opportunity to say, 
that were he king he would do all that away, and assume the ofiice of 
Lord High Admiral. "Your R.H. may act with great prudence," 
said C[roker]. " The last monarch who did so was James ii." Pres- 
ently after H.M. asked what they were talking of. " It's only his 
R.H. of C," answered C[roker], " who is so condescending as to tell 
us what he will do when he is king." 

A long letter from R. P. Gillies. I wonder how even he could 
ask me to announce myself as the author of Annotations on German 
Novels which he is to write. 

September 27. — A day of honest labour — but having much to read, 
proofs to send oS, etc., I was only able to execute my task by three 
o'clock P.M. Then I went to direct the cutting of wood along the 
road in front of the house. Dined at Chiefswood with Captain and 
Mrs. Hamilton, Lady Lucy Whitmore, their guest, and neighbours 
from Gattonside and Huntly Burn. 



172 JOURNAL [Sept., 1826. 

September 28. — Another hard brush, and finished four pages by- 
twelve o'clock, then drove out to Cowdenknowes, for a morning visit. 
The house is ancient and curious, though modernised by vile improve- 
ments of a modern roof and windows. The inhabited part has over 
the principal door the letters S. I. H. V. I. H. The first three indicate 
probably Sir John Hume, but what are we to make of the rest? I 
will look at them more heedfully one day. There is a large room 
said to have been built for the reception of Queen Mary ; if so, it has 
been much modernised. The date on the door is 1576, which would 
[not] bear out the tradition. The last two letters probably signify 
Lady Hume's name, but what are we to make of the F? Dr. Hume 
thinks it means UxoVj but why should that word be in Latin and the 
rest in Scotch ? 

Returned to dinner, corrected proofs, and hope still to finish an- 
other leaf, being in light working humour. Finished the same ac- 
cordingly. 

[Abbotsford,^ September 29. — A sort of zeal of working has seized 
me, which I must avail myself of. No dejection of mind, and no 
tremor of nerves, for which God be humbly thanked. My spirits are 
neither low nor high — grave, I think, and quiet — a complete twilight 
of the mind. 

Good news of John Lockhart from Lady Montagu, who most kind- 
ly wrote on that interesting topic. 

I wrote five pages, nearly a double task, yet wandered for three 
hours, axe in hand, superintending the thinning of the home plant- 
ing. That does good too. I feel it give steadiness to my mind. 
Women, it is said, go mad much seldomer than men. I fancy, if this 
be true, it is in some degree owing to the little manual works in which 
they are constantly employed, which regulate in some degree the cur- 
rent of ideas, as the pendulum regulates the motion of the timepiece. 
I do not know if this is sense or nonsense, but I am sensible that if 
I were in solitary confinement, without either the power of taking ex- 
ercise or employing myself in study, six months would make me a 
madman or an idiot. 

September 30. — Wrote four pages. Honest James Ballantyne 
came about five. I had been cutting wood for two hours. He 
brought his child, a remarkably fine boy, well-bred, quiet, and amia- 
ble. James and I had a good comfortable chat, the boys being at 
Gattonside House. I am glad to see him bear up against misfortune 
like a man. " Bread we shall eat, or white or brown," that's the 
moral of it, Master Muggins. 



OCTOBER 

October 1. — "Wrote my task, then walked from one till half -past 
four. Dogs took a hare. They always catch one on Sunday — a Puri- 
tan would say the devil was in them. I think I shall get more done 
this evening. I would fain conclude the volume at the Treaty of 
Tilsit, which will make it a pretty long one, by the by. J. B. ex- 
pressed himself much pleased with Nap., which gives me much cour- 
age. He is gloomy enough when things are not well. And then I 
will try something at my Canongate. They talk about the pitcher go- 
ing to the well ; but if it goes not to the well, how shall we get water ? 
It will bring home none when it stands on the shelf, I trow. In lit- 
erature, as in love, courage is half the battle. 

"The public born to be controlled 
Stoops to the forward and the bold." 

October 2. — Wrote my task. Went out at one and wrought in 
the wood till four. I was made happy by a letter from my nephew, 
little Walter, as we used to call him, from his age and size, compared 
to those of his cousin. He has been kindly received at Bombay by 
the Governor Mountstuart Elphinstone, and by Sir Thomas Bradford. 
He is taking his ground, I think, prudently, and is likely to get on. 
Already first Lieutenant of Engineers — that is well to begin with. 

Colonel Ferguson, Miss Margaret, and some ladies, friends of 
theirs, dine, also Mr. and Mrs. Laidlaw, and James Laidlaw, and young 
Mr. N. Milne. 

October 3. — I wrote my task as usual, but, strange to tell, there is 
a want of paper. I expect some to-day. In the meantime, to avoid 
all quarrel with Dame Duty, I cut up some other leaves into the usual 
statutory size. They say of a fowl that if you draw a chalk line on 
a table, and lay chick-a-diddle down with his bill upon it, the poor 
thing will imagine himself opposed by an insurmountable barrier, 
which he will not attempt to cross. Suchlike are one-half of the ob- 
stacles which serve to interrupt our best resolves, and such is my pre- 
tended want of paper. It is like Sterne's want of sous when he went 
to relieve the Fauvre Honteux. 

October 4. — I ought to record with gratitude to God Almighty the 
continued health of body and mind, which He hath vouchsafed to grant 
me. I have had of late no accesses either of bile or of nervous affec- 
tion, and by mixing exercise with literary labour, I have escaped the 
tremor cordis which on other occasions has annoyed me cruelly. I 



174 JOURNAL [Oct. 

went to the inspection of the Selkirkshire Yeomanry, by Col. Thorn- 
hill, 7th Hussars. The Colonel is a remarkably fine-looking man, and 
has a good address. His brow bears tokens of the fatigues of war. 
He is a great falconer, and has promised to fly his hawks on Friday 
for my amusement, and to spend the day at Abbotsford. The young 
Duke of B. was on the field looking at the corps, most of whom are 
his tenants. They did very well, and are fine, smart young men, and 
well mounted. Too few of them though, which is a pity. The ex- 
ercise is a work which in my time I have loved well. 

Finished my task at night. 

October 5. — I was thinking this morning that my time glided 
away in a singularly monotonous manner, like one of those dark grey 
days which neither promise sunshine nor threaten rain ; too melan- 
choly for enjoyment, too tranquil for repining. But this day has 
brought a change which somewhat shakes my philosophy. I find by 
a letter from J. Gibson that I may go to London without danger, and 
if I may, I in a manner must, to examine the papers in the Secretary of 
State's ofiice about Bon. when at Saint Helena. The opportunity having 
been offered must be accepted, and yet I had much rather stay at home. 
Even the prospect of seeing Sophia and Lockhart must be mingled 
with pain, yet this is foolish too. Lady Hamilton' writes me that Pozzo 
di Borgo,^ the Russian Minister at Paris, is willing to communicate 
to me some particulars of Bonaparte's early life. Query — might I 
not go on there ? In for a penny, in for a pound. I intend to take 
Anne with me, and the pleasure will be great to her, who deserves 
much at my hand. 

October 6. — Charles and his friend Surtees left us this morning. 

Went to see Colonel Thornhill's hawks fly. Some part of the 
amusement is very beautiful, particularly the first flight of the hawks, 
when they sweep so beautifully round the company, jingling their 
bells from time to time, and throwing themselves into the most 
elegant positions as they gaze about for their prey. But I do not 
wonder that the impatience of modern times has renounced this ex- 
pensive and precarious mode of sporting. The hawks are liable to 
various misfortunes, and are besides addicted to fly away ; one of ours 
was fairly lost for the day, and one or two went oS without permis- 
sion, but returned. We killed a crow and frightened a snipe. There 
are, however, ladies and gentlemen enough to make a gallant show on 
the top of Mintlaw Kipps. The falconer made a fine figure — a hand- 
some and active young fellow with the falcon on his wrist. The 
Colonel was most courteous, and named a hawk after me, which was 
a compliment. The hawks are not named till they have merited that 
distinction. I walked about six miles and was not fatigued. 

There dined with us Colonel Thornhill, Clifton, young W^hytbank, 

J Eldest daughter of the illustrious Admiral ' This implacable enemy of Napoleon, — a 
Lord Duncan, wife of Sir Hew Hamilton Dal- Corsican, died in his seventy-fourth year in 
rymple. She died in 1852. 1842. 



1826.] JOURNAL 175 

Spencer Stanhope, and his brother, with Miss Tod and my old friend 
Locker,^ Secretary to Greenwich Hospital. We did not break up 
the party till one in the morning, and were very well amused. 

October 7. — A weary day of rain. Locker and I chatted from 
time to time, and I wrought not at Boney, but upon the prose works, 
of which I will have a volume ready to send in on Monday. I got a 
letter from John Gibson, with an offer by Longman for Napoleon of 
ten thousand five hundred guineas,* which I have advised them to 
accept. Also I hear there is some doubt of my getting to London, 
from the indecision of these foolish Londoners. 

I don't care whether I go or no ! And yet it is unpleasant to see 
how one's motions depend on scoundrels like these. Besides, I would 
like to be there, were it but to see how the cat jumps. One knows 
nothing of the world, if you are absent from it so long as I have 
been. 

October 8. — Locker left me this morning. He is of opinion the 
ministry must soon assume another form, but that the Whigs will not 
come in. Lord Liverpool holds much by Lord Melville — well in point 
of judgment — and by the Duke of Wellington — still better, but then 
the Duke is a soldier — a bad education for a statesman in a free 
country. The Chancellor is also consulted by the Premier on all law 
affairs. Canning and Huskisson are at the head of the other party, 
who may be said to have taken the Cabinet by storm, through sheer 
dint of talent. I should like to see how these ingredients are work- 
ing ; but by the grace of God, I will take care of putting my finger 
into the cleft stick. 

Locker has promised to get my young cousin Walter Scott on 
some quarter-deck or other. 

Received from Mr. Cadell the second instalment advance of cash 
on Canongate. It is in English bills and money, in case of my going 
to town. 

October 9. — A gracious letter from Messrs. Abud and Son, bill- 
brokers, etc. ; assure Mr. Gibson that they will institute no legal pro- 
ceedings against me for four or five weeks. And so I am permitted 
to spend my money and my leisure to improve the means of paying 
them their debts, for that is the only use of my present journey. They 
are Jews : I suppose the devil baits for Jews with a pork griskin. 
Were I not to exert myself, I wonder where their money is to come 
from. 

A letter from Gillies menacing the world with a foreign miscel- 

1 E. H. Locker, Esq., then Secretary, after- guine as to the success of the Memoirs of Na- 
wards one of the Commissioners of Greenwich poleon that I did not hesitate to express it as 
Hospital— an old and dear friend of Scott's.— my opinion that I had much confidence in it 
See Oct. 25. producing him at least £10,000, and this I ob- 
served, as my expectation, to Sir W. Scott." 

2 As an illustration of Constable's accuracy This opinion was expressed not only before the 
in gauging the value of literary property, it sale of the work, but before it was all written. — 
may be stated that in his formal declaration, A. Constable and his Correspondents^ vol. iii. 
after sequestration, he said:— "I was so san- p. 313. 



176 JOURNAL [Oct. 

lany. The plan is a good one, but " he canna hand it," as John 
Moodie^ says. He will think all is done when he has got a set of 
names, and he will find the difficulty consists not in that, but in get- 
ting articles. I wrote on the prose works. 

Lord and Lady Minto dined and spent the night at Abbotsford. 

October 10. — Well, I must prepare for going to London, and per- 
haps to Paris. The morning frittered away. I slept till eight 
o'clock, then our guests till twelve ; then walked out to direct some 
alterations on the quarry, which I think may at little expense be ren- 
dered a pretty recess. Wordsworth swears by an old quarry, and is 
in some degree a supreme authority on such points. Rain came on ; 
returned completely wet. I had next the displeasure to find that I 
had lost the conclusion of vol. v. of Napoleon, seven or eight pages 
at least, which I shall have to write over again, unless I can find it. 
Well, as Othello says, " that's not much." My cousin James Scott 
came to dinner. 

I have great unwillingness to set out on this journey ; I almost 
think it ominous ; but 

" They that look to freits, my master dear, 
Their freits will follow them." 2 

I will stick to my purpose. Answered a letter from Gillies about 
establishing a foreign journal ; a good plan, but I fear in sorry hands. 
Of those he names as his assistants they who can be useful will do 
little, and the labours of those who are willing to work will rather 
hold the publication down. I fear it will not do. 

I am downhearted about leaving all my things, after I was quietly 
settled ; it is a kind of disrooting that recalls a thousand painful ideas 
of former happier journeys. And to be at the mercy of these fel- 
lows ! God help — but rather God bless — man must help himself. 

October 11. — We are ingenious self - tormentors. This journey 
annoys me more than anything of the kind in my life. My wife's 
figure seems to stand before me, and her voice is in my ears — " Scott, 
do not go." It half frightens me. Strong throbbing at my heart, 
and a disposition to be very sick. It is just the effect of so many 
feelings which had been lulled asleep by the uniformity of my life, 
but which awaken on any new subject of agitation. Poor, poor Char- 
lotte ! ! I cannot daub it further. I get incapable of arranging my 
papers too. I will go out for half-an-hour. God relieve me ! 

I quelled this hysterica passio by pushing a walk towards Kaeside 
and back again, but Avhen I returned I still felt uncomfortable, and 
all the papers I wanted were out of the way, and all those I did not 
want seemed to place themselves under my fingers ; my cash, accord- 
ing to the nature of riches in general, made to itself wings and fled, 
I verily believe from one hiding-place to another. To appease this 

1 Another of the Abbotsford labourers. » See Ballad of Edom of Gordon. 



1826.] JOURNAL 177 

insurrection of the papers, I gave up putting my things in order till 
to-morrow morning. 

Dined at Kippielaw with a party of neighbours. They had cigars 
for me, very politely. But I must break folks off this. I would 
[not] willingly be like old Dr. Parr, or any such quiz, who has his 
tastes and whims, forsooth, that must be gratified. So no cigars on 
the journey. 

October 12.^ — Reduced ray rebellious papers to order. Set out 
after breakfast, and reached Carlisle at eight o'clock at night. 

Rokeby Park^ October 13. — We were off before seven, and visit- 
ing Appleby Castle by the way (a most interesting and curious 
place), we got to Morritt's* about half-past four, where we had as 
warm a welcome as one of the warmest hearts in the world could 
give an old friend. I saw his nephew's wife for the first time, a 
very pleasing young person. It was great pleasure to me to see 
Morritt happy in the midst of his family circle, undisturbed, as here- 
tofore, by the sickness of any dear to him. 

On recalling my own recollections during my journey I may note 
that I found great pleasure in my companion's conversation, as well 
as in her mode of managing all her little concerns on the road. I 
am apt to judge of character by good-humour and alacrity in these 
petty concerns. I think the inconveniences of a journey seem great- 
er to me than formerly ; while, on the other hand, the pleasures it 
affords are rather less. The ascent of Stainmore seemed duller and 
longer than usual, and Bowes, which used to strike me as a distin- 
guished feature, seemed an ill-formed mass of rubbish, a great deal 
lower than I had supposed ; yet I have seen it twenty times at least. 
On the other hand, what I lose in my own personal feelings I gain 
in those of my companion, who shows an intelligent curiosity and in- 
terest in what she sees. I enjoy therefore, reflectively, veluti in 
speculo, the sort of pleasure to which I am now less accessible. 

October 14. — Strolled about in the morning with Morritt, and saw 

1 "On the 12th of October, Sir Waller left ful sympathy with which his misfortunes, and 
Abbotsford for London, where he had been gallant behaviour under them, had been re- 
promised access to the papers in the Govern- garded by all classes of men at home and 
ment offices; and thence he proceeded to Paris, abroad, was brought home to his perception 
in the hope of gathering from various eminent in a way not to be mistaken. He was cheered 
persons authentic anecdotes concerning Napo- and gratified, and returned to Scotland with 
leon. His Diary shows that he was successful renewed hope and courage for the prosecution 
in obtaining many valuable materials for the of his marvellous course of industry." — Life, 
completion of his historical work; and reflects, vol. ix. pp. 2, 3. 

with sufficient distinctness, the very brilliant ^ John B. Saurey Morritt of Rokeby, a friend 

reception he on this occasion experienced both of twenty years' standing, and "one of the 

in London and Paris. The range of his society most accomplished men that ever shared 

is strikingly (and unconsciously) exemplified Scott's confidence. " 

in the record of one day, when we find him He had published, before making Scott's ac- 

breakfasting at the Royal Lodge in Windsor quaintance, a Vindication of Homer, in 1798, a 

Park, and supping on oysters and porter in treatise on The Topography of Troy, 1800, and 

'honest Dan Terry's house, like a squirrel's translations and imitations of the minor Greek 

cage,' above the Adelphi Theatre in the Strand. Poets in 1802. 

There can be no doubt that this expedition was Mr. Morritt survived his friend till February 

in many ways serviceable in his Life of Napo- 12th, 1843, when he died at Rokeby Park, York- 

leon; and I think as little that it was chiefly so shire, in his seventy-second year. — See Life 

by renewing his spirits. The deep and respect- throughout. 

1% 



178 JOURNAL [Oct. 

his new walk up tlie Tees, which he is just concocting. Got a pam- 
phlet he has written on the Catholic Question. In 1806 he had other 
views on that subject, but " live and learn " as they say. One of his 
squibs against Fox and Grenville's Administration concludes — 

"Though they sleep with the devil, yet theirs is the hope. 
On the scum of old England, to rise with the Pope." 

Set off at two, and reached Wetherby to supper and bed. 

It was the Corporation of Leeds that by a subscription of £80,000 
brought in the anti-Catholic candidate. I remember their subscrib- 
ing a similar sum to bring in Morritt, if he would have stood. 

Saw in Morritt's possession an original miniature of Milton by 
Cooper — a valuable thing indeed. The pedigree seemed authentic. 
It was painted for his favourite daughter — had come into possession 
of some of the Davenants — was then in the Devonshire collection 
from which it was stolen. Afterwards purchased by Sir Joshua Rey- 
nolds, and at his sale by Morritt or his father.^ The countenance 
handsome and dignified, with a strong expression of genius, probably 
the only portrait of Milton taken from the life excepting the drawing 
from which Faithorne's head is done. 

[Grantham,'] October 15. — Old England is no changeling. It is 
Jong since I travelled this road, having come up to town chiefly by 
sea of late years, but things seem much the same. One race of red- 
nosed innkeepers are gone, and their widows, eldest sons, or head- 
waiters exercise hospitality in their room with the same bustle and 
importance. Other things seem, externally at least, much the same. 
The land, however, is much better ploughed ; straight ridges every- 
where adopted in place of the old circumflex of twenty years ago. 
Three horses, however, or even four, are often seen in a plough yoked 
one before the other. Ill habits do not go out at once. We slept at 
Grantham, where we met wdth Captain William Lockhart and his lady, 
bound for London like ourselves. 

[Biggleswade,'] October 16. — Visited Burleigh this morning; the 
first time I ever saw that grand place, where there are so many ob- 
jects of interest and curiosity. The house is magnificent, in the style 
of James i.'s reigu, and consequently in mixed Gothic. Of paintings 
I know nothing ; so shall attempt to say nothing. But whether to 
connoisseurs, or to an ignorant admirer like myself, the Salvator 
Mundi, by Carlo Dolci, must seem worth a King's ransom. Lady 
Exeter, who was at home, had the goodness or curiosity to wish to 
see us. She is a beauty after my own heart ; a great deal of liveli- 
ness in the face ; an absence alike of form and of affected ease, and 
really courteous after a genuine and ladylike fashion. 

We reached Biggleswade to-night at six, and paused here to wait 
for the Lockharts. Spent the evening together. 

» MS. note on margin of Journal hy Mr. Mor- by Mason to Burgh, and given to me by Mr. 
ritt; "No— it was left by Reynolds to Mason, Burgh's widow." 



1826.] JOURNAL 179 

[^Pall Mall,'] October 11: — Here am I in this capital once more, 
after an April-weather meeting with my daughter and Lockhart. Too 
much grief in our first meeting to be joyful; too much pleasure to. 
be distressing — a giddy sensation between the painful and the pleas- 
urable. I will call another subject. 

Read over Sir John Chiverton^ and Bramhletye House'^ — novels 
in what I may surely claim as the style 

"Which I was born to introduce — 
Refined it first, and show'd its use." 

They are both clever books ; one in imitation of the days of chivalry ; 
the other (by Horace Smith, one of the authors of the Rejected Ad- 
dresses) dated in the time of the Civil Wars, and introducing histori- 
cal characters. I read both with great interest during the journey. 

I am something like Captain BobadiP who trained up a hundred 
gentlemen to fight very nearly, if not altogether, as well as myself. 
And so far I am convinced of this, that I believe were I to publish 
the Canongate Chronicles without my name {nom de guerre, I mean) 
the event would be a corollary to the fable of the peasant who made 
the real pig squeak against the imitator, while the sapient audience 
hissed the poor grunter as if inferior to the biped in his own lan- 
guage. The peasant could, indeed, confute the long-eared multitude 
by showing piggy ; but were I to fail as a knight with a white and 
maiden shield, and then vindicate my claim to attention by putting 
" By the Author of Waverley " in the title, my good friend Publi- 
cum would defend itself by stating 1 had tilted so ill, that my course 
had not the least resemblance to my former doings, when indisputa- 
bly I bore away the garland. Therefore I am as firmly and resolute- 
ly determined that I will tilt under my own cognisance. The hazard, 
indeed, remains of being beaten. But there is a prejudice (not an 
undue one neither) in favour of the original patentee ; and Joe Man- 
ton's name has borne out many a sorry gun-barrel. More of this to- 
morrow. 

Expense of journey £41 

Anne, pocket-money 5 

Servants on journey 2 

Cash in purse (silver not reckoned) 2 

£50 



1 Chiverton was the first publication (anony- of historical manners, and the same historical 
mous) of Mr. W. Harrison Ainsworth, the au- personages are introduced. Of course, if such 
thor of Rockwood and other popular romances. have occurred, I shall be probably the sufferer. 
—J- G. L. But my intentions have been at least innocent, 

2 It is interesting to know that Scott would since I look on it as one of the advantages at- 
not read this book until Woodstock was fairly tending the conclusion of Woodstock, that the 
off" his hands. finishing of my own task will permit me to 

See ante, p. 107, and the introduction to the have the pleasure of reading Brambletye- 

originaledition written in March, 1826, in which House, from which I have hitherto conscien- 

the author says: — "Some accidental collision tiousiy abstained." — Novels, vol. xxxix. pp. 

there must be, when works of a similar char- Ixxv-vi. 

acter are finished on the same general system s Ben Jonson, Every Man in his Humour. 



180 JOURNAL [Oct. 

This is like to be an expensive journey ; but if I can sell an early 
copy of the work to a French translator, it should bring me home. 

Thank God, littlie Johnnie Hoo, as he calls himself, is looking 
well, though the poor dear child is kept always in a prostrate posture. 

October 18. — I take up again my remarks on imitators. I am sure 
I mean the gentlemen no wrong by calling them so, and heartily wish 
they had followed a better model ; but it serves to show me veluti in 
speculo my own errors, or, if you will, those of the style. One advan- 
tage, I think, I still have over all of them. They may do their fool- 
ing with better grace ; but I, like Sir Andrew Aguecheek, do it more 
natural.' They have to read old books and consult antiquarian col- 
lections to get their knowledge ; I write because I have long since 
read such works, and possess, thanks to a strong memory, the infor- 
mation which they have to seek for. This leads to a dragging-in his- 
torical details by head and shoulders, so that the interest of the main 
piece is lost in minute descriptions of events which do not affect its 
progress. Perhaps I have sinned in this way myself ; indeed, I am 
but too conscious of having considered the plot only as what Bayes'* 
calls the means of bringing in fine things ; so that in respect to the 
descriptions, it resembled the string of the showman's box, which he 
pulls to show in succession Kings, Queens, the Battle of Waterloo, 
Bonaparte at Saint Helena, Newmarket Races, and White-headed 
Bob floored by Jemmy from town. All this I may have done, but 
I have repented of it ; and in my better efforts, while I conducted my 
story through the agency of historical personages, and by connecting 
it with historical incidents, I have endeavoured to weave them pretty 
closely together, and in future I will vStudy this more. Must not let 
the background eclipse the principal figures — the frame overpower 
the picture. 

Another thing in my favour is, that my contemporaries steal too 
openly. Mr. Smith has inserted in Bramhletye House whole pages 
from Defoe's Fire and Plague of London. 

" Steal ! foh ! a fico for the phrase — 
Convey, the wise it call!'" 

When / convey an incident or so, I am at as much pains to avoid 
detection as if the offence could be indicted in literal fact at the Old 
Bailey. 

But leaving this, hard pressed as I am by these imitators, who 
must put the thing out of fashion at last, I consider, like a fox at his 
last shifts, whether there be a way to dodge them, some new device 
to throw them off, and have a mile or two of free ground, while I 
have legs and wind left to use it. There is one way to give novelty : 
to depend for success on the interest of a well-contrived story. But 
woe's me! that requires thought, consideration — the writing out a 

1 Twelfth Night, Act ii. Sc. 3. 3 Merry Wives, Act i. Sc. 3. 

8 Rehearsal, Act ui. Sc. 1. 



1826.] JOURNAL 181 

regular plan or plot — above all the adhering to one — which I never 
can do, for the ideas rise as I write, and bear such a dispropor- 
tioned extent to that which each occupied at the first concoction, that 
(cocksnowns !) I shall never be able to take the trouble ; and yet to 
make the world stare, and gain a new march ahead of them all ! ! ! 
Well, something we still will do. 

"Liberty's in every blow; 
Let us do or die!" 

Poor Rob Burns ! to tack thy fine strains of sublime patriotism ! 
Better take Tristram Shandy's vein. Hand me my cap and bells 
there. So now, I am equipped. I open my raree-show with 

Ma'am, will you walk in, and fal de ral diddle? 
And, sir, will you stalk in, and fal de ral diddle? 
And, miss, will you pop in, and fal de ral diddle ? 
And, master, pray hop in, and fal de ral diddle ? 

Query — How long is it since I heard that strain of dulcet mood, and 
where or how came I to pick it up ? It is not mine, " though by your 
smiling you seem to say so." * Here is a proper morning's work ! 
But I am childish with seeing them all well and happy here ; and as 
I can neither whistle nor sing, I must let the giddy humour run to 
waste on paper. 

Sallied forth in the morning ; bought a hat. Met Spr] W[illiam] 
K[nighton],^ from whose discourse I guess that Malachi has done me 
no prejudice in a certain quarter ; with more indications of the times, 
which I need not set down. 

Sallied again after breakfast, and visited the Piccadilly ladies.^ 
Saw Rogers and Richard Sharp, also good Dr. and Mrs. Hughes, also 
the Duchess of Buckingham, and Lady Charlotte Bury, with a most 
beautiful little girl. [Owen] Rees breakfasted, and agreed I should 
have what the Frenchman has offered for the advantage of translat- 
ing Napoleon which, being a hundred guineas, will help my ex- 
penses to town and down again. 

October 19. — I rose at my usual time, but could not write; so 
read Southey's History of the Peninsular War. It is very good in- 
deed, — honest English principle in every line ; but there are many 
prejudices, and there is a tendency to augment a work already too 
long by saying all that can be said of the history of ancient times 
appertaining to every place mentioned. What care we whether Sar- 
agossa be derived from Caesarea Augusta ? Could he have proved it 
to be Numantium, there would have been a concatenation accordingly.* 

1 Hamlet^ Act ii. Sc. 2. early friends of Lady Scott's. — See Life, vol. ii. 

uuenuauy.— J. g. l. ^^ ^^^^ Roman writers. See Life, vol. vii. p. 

=• The Dumergues, at 15 Piccadilly West— 352.— j. G. L. 



182 JOURNAL [Oct 

Breakfasted at Rogers' with Sir Thomas Lawrence ; Luttrell, the 
great London wit ;^ Richard Sharp, etc. Sam made us merry with 
an account of some part of Rose's Ariosto ; proposed that the Italian 
should be printed on the other side for the sake of assisting the in- 
dolent reader to understand the English ; and complained of his us- 
ing more than once the phrase of a lady having " voided her saddle," 
which would certainly sound extraordinary at Apothecaries' Hall. 
Well, well, Rose carries a dirk too.^ The morning was too dark for 
Westminster Abbey, which we had projected. 

I went to the Foreign OflBce, and am put by Mr. Wilmot Horton 
into the hands of a confidential clerk, Mr. Smith, who promises ac- 
cess to everything. Then saw Croker, who gave me a bundle of doc- 
uments. Sir George Cockburn promises his despatches and journal. 
Li short, I have ample prospect of materials. 

Dined with Mrs. Coutts. Tragi-comic distress of my good friend 
on the marriage of her presumptive heir with a daughter of Lucien 
Bonaparte. 

October 20. — Commanded down to pass a day at Windsor. This 
is very kind of His Majesty. 

At breakfast, Crofton Croker, author of the Irish Fairy Tales — 
little as a dwarf, keen -eyed as a hawk, and of very prepossessing 
manners. Something like Tom Moore. There were also Terry, Al- 
lan Cunningham, Newton, and others. Now I must go to work. 

Went down to Windsor, or rather to the Lodge in the Forest, 
which, though ridiculed by connoisseurs, seems to be no bad speci- 
men of a royal retirement, and is delightfully situated. A kind of 
cottage ornee — too large perhaps for the style — but yet so managed 
that in the walks you only see parts of it at once, and these well 
composed and grouping with immense trees. His Majesty received 
me with the same mixture of kindness and courtesy which has al- 
ways distinguished his conduct towards me. There was no company 
beside the royal retinue — Lady C[onyngham], her daughter, and 
two or three other ladies. After we left table, there was excellent 
music by the Royal Band, who lay ambushed in a green-house ad- 
joining the apartment. The King made me sit beside him and talk 
a great deal — too much, perhaps — for he has the art of raising one's 
spirits, and making you forget the retenue which is prudent every- 
where, especially at court. But he converses himself with so much 
ease and elegance, that you lose thoughts of the prince in admiring 
the well-bred and accomplished gentleman. He is, in many respects, 
the model of a British monarch — has little inclination to try experi- 



1 This brilliant conversationalist was the an- Moore in his Diary has embalmed numerous 

thor of several airy and graceful productions in examples of his satiric wit. Henry Luttrell 

verse, which were published anonymously, died in 1851. 
such a.s Lines written at Ampthill Park, in 1818 ; 

Advice to Julia, a Letter in Rhyme, in which he 2 xhe Orlando Furioso, by Mr. Stewart Rose, 

sketched high life in London, in 1820. He also was published in 8 vols. 8vo, London, 1823- 

published Crockford House, a rhapsody, in 1827. 1831. 



1826.] JOURNAL 183 

ments on government otherwise than through his ministers — sincere- 
ly, I believe, desires the good of his subjects, is kind towards the dis- 
tressed, and moves and speaks " every inch a king."^ I am sure 
such a man is fitter for us than one who would long to head armies, 
or be perpetually intermeddling with la grande politique. A sort of 
reserve, which creeps on him daily, and prevents his going to places 
of public resort, is a disadvantage, and prevents his being so gener- 
ally popular as is earnestly to be desired. This, I think, was much 
increased by the behaviour of the rabble in the brutal insanity of the 
Queen's trial, when John Bull, meaning the best in the world, made 
such a beastly figure. 

October 21. — Walked in the morning with Sir William Knighton, 
and had much confidential chat, not fit to be here set down, in case 
of accidents. He undertook most kindly to recommend Charles, when 
he has taken his degree, to be attached to some of the diplomatic 
missions, which I think is best for the lad after all. After breakfast 
went to Windsor Castle, met by appointment my daughters and Lock- 
hart, and examined the improvements going on there under Mr. Wy- 
attville, who appears to possess a great deal of taste and feeling for 
Gothic architecture. The old apartments, splendid enough in extent 
and proportion, are paltry in finishing. Instead of being lined with 
heart of oak, the palace of the British King is hung with paper, 
painted wainscot colour. There are some fine paintings and some 
droll ones ; among the last are those of divers princes of the House 
of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, of which Queen Charlotte was descended. 
They are ill- coloured, orang-outang-looking figures, with black eyes 
and hook-noses, in old-fashioned uniforms. 

We returned to a hasty dinner [in Pall Mall], and then hurried 
away to see honest Dan Terry's house, called the Adelphi Theatre, 
where we saw the Pilot, from the American novel of that name. It 
is extremely popular, the dramatist having seized on the whole story, 
and turned the odious and ridiculous parts, assigned by the original 
author to the British, against the Yankees themselves. There is a 
quiet effrontery in this that is of a rare and peculiar character. The 
Americans were so much displeased, that they attempted a row — 
which rendered the piece doubly attractive to the seamen at Wap- 
ping, who came up and crowded the house night after night, to sup- 
port the honour of the British flag. After all, one must deprecate 
whatever keeps up ill-will betwixt America and the mother country ; 
and we in particular should avoid awakening painful recollections. 
Our high situation enables us to contemn petty insults and to make 
advances towards cordiality. I was, however, glad to see honest Dan's 
theatre as full seemingly as it could hold. The heat was dreadful, 
and Anne was so very unwell that she was obliged to be carried into 
Terry's house, — a curious dwelling, no larger than a squirrel's cage, 

* King Lear, Act iv. Sc. 6.— j. g. l. 



184 JOURNAL [Oct. 

which he has contrived to squeeze out of the vacant spaces of the 
theatre, and which is accessible by a most complicated combination 
of staircases and small passages. Here we had rare good porter and 
oysters after the play, and found Anne much better. She had at- 
tempted too much ; indeed I myself was much fatigued. 

October 22. — This morning Drs. Gooch, Shaw, and Yates break- 
fasted, and had a consultation about wee Johnnie. They give us 
great hopes that his health will be established, but the seaside or the 
country seem indispensable. Mr. Wilmot Horton,' Under Secretary 
of State, also breakfasted. He is full of some new plan of relieving 
the poor's-rates by encouraging emigration. But John Bull will 
think this savours of Botany Bay. The attempt to look the poor's- 
rates in the face is certainly meritorious. 

Laboured in writing and marking extracts to be copied from break- 
fast to dinner, with the exception of an hour spent in telling Johnnie 
the history of his namesake, Gilpin. 

Mr. William and Mrs. Lockhart dined with us. Tom Moore'* and 
Sir Thomas Lawrence came in the ev^ening, which made a pleasant 
soiree. Smoke my French — Egad, it is time to air some of my vo- 
cabulary. It is, I find, cursedly musty. 

October 23. — Sam Rogers and Moore breakfasted here, and we 
were very merry fellows. Moore seemed disposed to go to France 
with us. I visited the Admiralty, and got Sir George Cockburn's 
journal, which is valuable.^ Also visited Lady Elizabeth and Sir 
Charles Stewart. My heart warmed to the former, on account of the 
old Balcarres connection. Sir Charles and she were very kind and 
communicative. I foresee I will be embarrassed with more commu- 
nications than I can well use or trust to, coloured as they must be by 
the passions of those who make them. Thus I have a statement 
from the Duchess d'Escars, to which the Bonapartists would, I dare 
say, give no credit. If Talleyrand, for example, could be communi- 
cative, he must have ten thousand reasons for perverting the truth, 
and yet a person receiving a direct communication from him would 
be almost barred from disputing it. 

" Sing tantararara, rogues all." 

We dined at the Residentiary -house with good Dr. Hughes,* 

1 Afterwards the Right Hon. Sir Robert Wil- picion on Moore's part shows how he had mis- 
mot Horton, Governor of Ceylon. understood Scott's real character. If Scott 

2 Moore, on hearing of Scott's arrival, hast- thought it right to ask the Bard of Ireland to 
cned to London from Sloperton, and had sev- be his companion, no hints from Mr. Wilmot 
eral pleasant meetings, particulars of which are Horton, or any members of the Court party, 
given in his Diary (vol. v. pp. 121 to 126). He would have influenced him, even though they 
would, as Scott says on the 23d, have gone to had urged that ''this political reprobate'' was 
Paris with them— "seemed disposed to go"; author of The Fudge Family in Paris and the 
but between that date and 25th fancied that he Twopenny Post-Bag. 

saw something in Scott's manner that made 3 Sir George died in 1853. His journal does 

him hesitate, and then finally give up the idea. not appear to have been published. 

He adds that Scott's friends had thrown out * Dr. Hughes, who died Jan. 6, 1833, aged 

hints as to the impropriety of such a political seventy-seven, was one of the Canons-residen- 

reprobate forming one of the party. This sus- tiary of St. Paul's, London. He and Mrs. 



1826.] JOURNAL 185 

Allan Cunniiigliam, Sir Thomas Lawrence, and young Mr. Hughes. 
Thomas Pringle^ is returned from the Cape, and called in my ab- 
sence. He might have done well there, could he have scoured his 
brain of politics, but he must needs publish a Whig journal at the 
Cape of Good Hope ! He is a worthy creature, but conceited withal 
— hinc nice lachrymce. He brought me some antlers and a skin, in 
addition to others he had sent to Abbotsford four year since. Crof- 
ton Croker made me a present of a small box of curious Irish antiq- 
uities containing a gold fibula, etc., etc. 

October 24. — Laboured in the morning. At breakfast Dr. Hol- 
land^ and Cohen, whom they now call Palgrave,' a mutation of names 
which confused my recollections. Item, Moore. I worked at the 
Colonial Office pretty hard. Dined with Mr. Wilmot Horton and 
his beautiful wife, the original of the ^^She walks in Beauty^'' etc., of 
poor Byron. 

The conversation is seldom excellent among official people. So 
many topics are what Otaheitians call taboo. We hunted down a 
pun or two, which were turned out, like the stag at the Epping Hunt, 
for the pursuit of all and sundry. Came home early, and was in bed 
by eleven. 

October 25. — Good Mr. Wilson* and his wife at breakfast; also 
Sir Thomas Lawrence. Locker' came in afterwards, and made a pro- 
posal to me to give up his intended Life of George iii. in my favour 
on cause shown. I declined the proposal, not being of opinion that 
my genius lies that way, and not relishing hunting in couples. Af- 
terwards went to the Colonial Office, and had Robert Hay's assistance 
in my inquiries ; then to the French Ambassador for my passports. 
Picked up Sotheby, who endeavoured to saddle me for a review of 
his polyglot Virgil. I fear I shall scarce convince him that I know 
nothing of the Latin lingo. Sir R. H. Inglis, Richard Sharp, and 
other friends called. We dined at Miss Dumergue's, and spent a 
part of our soiree at Lydia White's. To-morrow, 

"For France, for France, for it is more than need."^ 

Hughes were old friends of Sir Walter, who had tection; but the newspaper alluded to in the 

been godfather to one of their grandchildren. text ruined his prospects at the Cape; he re- 

— See Li/e, vol. vii. pp. 259-260. Their son was turned to England, became Secretary to the 

John Hughes, Esq., of Oriel College, whose Anti-Slavery Society, published a cliarming lit- 

" Itinerary of the Rhone" is mentioned with tie volume entitled African Sketches, and died 

praise in the introduction to Quenlin Durward. in December, 1834. He was a man of amiable 

—See letter to Charles Scott, in Life, vol. vii. feelings and elegant genius. 

p. 275. 2 An esteemed friend of Sir Walter's, who at- 

' Mr. Pringle was a Roxburghshire farmer's tended on him during his illness in October 

son who in youth attracted Sir Walter's notice 1831, and in June, 1832. 

by his poem called The Autumnal Excursion; 3 Afterwards Sir Francis Palgrave, Deputy- 

or, Sketches in Teviotdale. He was for a short Keeper of the public records, and author of the 

time Editor of Blackwood'' s Magazine, but the History of Normandy and England, 4 vols, 

publisher and he had different politics, quar- 8vo, 1851-1864, and other works, 

relied, and parted. Sir Walter then gave Prin- * William Wilson of Wandsworth Common, 

gle strong recommendations to the late Lord formerly ofWilsontown, in Lanarkshire. —j.g.l. 

Charles Somerset, Governor of the Cape of * E. H. Locker, then Secretary of Greenwich 

Good Hope, in which colony he settled, and for Hospital.— See ante, Oct. 7. 

some years throve under the Governor's pro- « King John, Act i. So. 1. 



186 JOURNAL [Oct. 

[Calais,'] October 26. — Up at five, and in the packet by six. A 
fine passage — save at the conclusion, while we lay on and off the har- 
bour of Calais. But the tossing made no impression on my com- 
panion or me ; we ate and drank like dragons the whole way, and 
were able to manage a good supper and best part of a bottle of Cha- 
blis, at the classic Dessein's, who received us with much courtesy. 

October 27. — Custom House, etc., detained us till near ten o'clock, 
so we had time to walk on the Boulevards, and to see the fortifica- 
tions, which must be very strong, all the country round being flat and 
marshy. Lost, as all know, by the bloody papist bitch (one must be 
vernacular when on French ground) Queen Mary, of red-hot memory. 
I would rather she had burned a score more of bishops. If she had 
kept it, her sister Bess would sooner have parted with her virginity. 
Charles i. had no temptation to part with it — it might, indeed, have 
been shuffled out of our hands during the Civil wars, but Noll would 
have as soon let monsieur draw one of his grinders ; then Charles ii. 
would hardly have dared to sell such an old possession, as he did 
Dunkirk ; and after that the French had little chance till the Revolu- 
tion. Even then, I think, we could have held a place that could be 
supplied from our own element, the sea. Cui bo7io ? None, I think, 
but to plague the rogues. — We dined at Cormont, and being stopped 
by Mr. Canning having taken up all the post-horses, could only reach 
Montreuil that night. I should have liked to have seen some more 
of this place, which is fortified ; and as it stands on an elevated and 
rocky site must present some fine points. But as we came in late 
and left early, I can only bear witness to good treatment, good sup- 
per, good vm de Barsac, and excellent beds. 

October 28. — Breakfasted at Abbeville, and saw a very handsome 
Gothic church, and reached Grandvilliers at night. The house is but 
second-rate, though lauded by various English travellers for the mod- 
eration of its charges, as was recorded in a book presented to us by 
the landlady. There is no great patriotism in publishing that a trav- 
eller thinks the bills moderate ; it serves usually as an intimation to 
mine host or hostess that John Bull will bear a little more squeezing. 
I gave my attestation too, however, for the charges of the good lady 
resembled those elsewhere ; and her anxiety to please was extreme. 
Folks must be harder -hearted than I am to resist the empressement, 
which may, indeed, be venal, yet has in its expression a touch of 
cordiality. 

[Paris,] October 29. — Breakfasted at Beauvais, and saw its mag- 
nificent cathedral — unfinished it has been left, and unfinished it will 
remain, of course, — the fashion of cathedrals being passed away. 
But even what exists is inimitable, the choir particularly, and the 
grand front. Beauvais is called the Pucelle, yet, so far aail can see, 
she wears no stays — I mean, has no fortifications. On we run, how- 
ever. Vogue la galere ; et voila nous a Paris, Hotel de Windsor [Rue 
Jiivoli], where we are well lodged. France, so far as I can see, which 



1826.] JOURNAL IS-? 

is very little, has not undergone many changes. The image of war 
has, indeed, passed away, and we no longer see troops crossing the 
country in every direction ; villages either ruined or hastily fortified ; 
inhabitants sheltered in the woods and caves to escape the rapacity 
of the soldiers — all this has passed away. The inns are much amend- 
ed. There is no occasion for that rascally practice of making a bar- 
gain — or combien-ing your landlady, before you unharness your 
horses, which formerly was a matter of necessity. The general taste 
of the English seems to regulate the travelling — naturally enough, as 
the hotels, of which there are two or three in each town, chiefly sub- 
sist by them. We did not see one French equipage on the road; 
the natives seem to travel entirely in the Diligence, and doubtless a 
bon marches the road was thronged with English. 

But in her great features France is the same as ever. An oppres- 
sive air of solitude seems to hover over these rich and extended 
plains, while we are sensible that, whatever is the motive of the des- 
olation, it cannot be sterility. The towns are small, and have a poor 
appearance, and more frequently exhibit signs of decayed splendour 
than of thriving and increasing prosperity. The chateau, the abode 
of the gentleman, and the villa, the retreat of the thriving negociant, 
are rarely seen till you come to Beaumont. At this place, which well 
deserves its name of the fair mount, the prospect improves greatly, 
and country-seats are seen in abundance; also woods, sometimes 
deep and extensive, at other times scattered in groves and single 
trees. Amidst these the oak seldom or never is found ; England, 
lady of the ocean, seems to claim it exclusively as her own. Nei- 
ther are there any quantity of firs. Poplars in abundance give a for- 
mal air to the landscape. The forests chiefly consist of beeches, 
with some birches, and the roads are bordered by elms cruelly 
cropped, pollarded, and switched. The demand for firewood occa- 
sions these mutilations. If I could waft by a wish the thinnings of 
Abbotsford here, it would make a little fortune of itself. But then 
to switch and mutilate my trees ! — not for a thousand francs. Ay, 
but sour grapes, quoth the fox. 

October 30. — Finding ourselves snugly settled in our Hotel, we 
determined to remain here at fifteen francs per day. We are in the 
midst of what can be seen, and we are very comfortably fed and lodged. 

This morning wet and surly. Sallied, however, by the assistance 
of a hired coach, and left cards for Count Pozzo di Borgo, Lord 
Granville, our ambassador, and M. Gallois, author of the History of 
Venice.^ Found no one at home, not even the old pirate Galignani,' 

1 There were two well-known Frenchmen of he was only thirty-seven, and it can scarcely 

this name at the time of Scott's visit to Paris: be of him that Scott writes (p. 288) as an "el- 

(l)Jean-Antoine-Gauvain Gallois, who was born derly " man. The probability is that it was 

about 1755 and died in 1828; (2) Charles-Andre- the elder Gallois whom Scott saw, and that he 

Gustave-Leonard Gallois, born 1789, died 1851. ascribed to him, though the title is misquoted, 

It was the latter of these who translated from a work written by the younger, 

the Italian of CoUetta Cinq jours de Vhistoire 2 "When he was in Paris," Hazlitt writes, 

de Naples, 8vo, Paris, 1820. But at this date "and went to Galignani's, he sat down in an 



188 JOLTBNAL [Oct. 

at whose den I ventured to call. Showed my companion the Louvre 
(which was closed, unluckily), the front of the palace with its courts, 
and all that splendid quarter which the fame of Paris rests upon in 
security. We can never do the like in Britain. Royal magnificence 
can only be displayed by despotic power. In England, were the 
most splendid street or public building to be erected, the matter 
must be discussed in Parliament, or perhaps some sturdy cobbler 
holds out, and refuses to part with his stall, and the whole plan is 
disconcerted. Long may such impediments exist ! But then we 
should conform to circumstances, and assume in our public works a 
certain sober simplicity of character, which should point out that 
they were dictated by utility rather than show. The affectation of 
an expensive style only places us at a disadvantageous contrast with 
other nations, and our substitute of brick and plaster for freestone 
resembles the mean ambition which displays Bristol stones in default 
of diamonds. 

We went to theatre in the evening — Comedie Frangaise the place, 
Rosemunde the piece. It is the composition of a young man with a 
promising name — Emile de Bonnechose ; the story that of Fair Ros- 
amond. There were some good situations, and the actors in the 
French taste seemed to me admirable, particularly Mademoiselle 
Bourgoin. It would be absurd to attempt to criticise what I only 
half understood ; but the piece was well received, and produced a 
very strong effect. Two or three ladies were carried out in hysterics ; 
one next to our box was frightfully ill. A Monsieur a belles mous- 
taches — the husband, I trust, though it is likely they were en partie 
fine — was extremely and affectionately assiduous. She was well 
worthy of the trouble, being very pretty indeed ; the face beautiful, 
even amidst the involuntary convulsions. The afterpiece was Femme 
Juge et Partie^ with which I was less amused than I had expected, 
because I found I understood the language less than I did ten or 
eleven years since. Well, well, I am past the age of mending. 

Some of our friends in London had pretended that at Paris I 
might stand some chance of being encountered by the same sort of 
tumultuary reception which I met in Ireland ; but for this I see no 
ground. It is a point on which I am totally indifferent. As a liter- 
ary man I cannot affect to despise public applause ; as a private gen- 
tleman I have always been embarrassed and displeased with popular 
clamours, even when in my favour. I know very well the breath of 
which such shouts are composed, and am sensible those who applaud 
me to-day would be as ready to toss me to-morrow ; and I would not 
have them think that I put such a value on their favour as would 
make me for an instant fear their displeasure. Now all this discla- 
mation is sincere, and yet it sounds affected. It puts me in mind of 

outer room to look at some book he wanted to was in a commotion." — From Mr. Alexander 
see; none of the clerks had the least suspicion Ireland's excellent Selections from HazliWs 
who he was. When it was found out, the place writings, 8vo, Lond. 1889, p. 482. 



1826.] JOURNAL 189 

an old woman who, when Carlisle was taken by the Highlanders in 
1745, chose to be particularly apprehensive of personal violence, and 
shut herself up in a closet, in order that she might escape ravishment. 
But no one came to disturb her solitude, and she began to be sensi- 
ble that poor Donald was looking out for victuals, or seeking for 
some small plunder, without bestowing a thought on the fair sex ; by 
and by she popped her head out of her place of refuge with the 
petty question, " Good folks, can you tell when the ravishing is go- 
ing to begin ?" I am sure I shall neither hide myself to avoid ap- 
plause, which probably no one will think of conferring, nor have the 
meanness to do anything which can indicate any desire of ravish- 
ment. I have seen, when the late Lord Erskine entered the Edin- 
burgh theatre, papers distributed in the boxes to mendicate a round 
of applause — the natural reward of a poor player. 

October 31. — At breakfast visited by M. Gallois, an elderly French- 
man (always the most agreeable class), full of information, courteous 
and communicative. He had seen nearly, and remarked deeply, and 
spoke frankly, though with due caution. He went with us to the 
Museum, where I think the Hall of Sculpture continues to be a fine 
thing; that of Pictures but tolerable, when we reflect upon 1815. A 
number of great French daubs (comparatively), by David and Gerard, 
cover the walls once occupied by the Italian chefs-d'oeuvre. Fiatjus- 
titia, mat coelum. We then visited Notre Dame and the Palace of 
Justice. The latter is accounted the oldest building in Paris, being 
the work of St. Louis. It is, however, in the interior, adapted to the 
taste of Louis xiv. We drove over the Pont Neuf, and visited the 
fine quays, which was all we could make out to-day, as I was afraid 
to fatigue Anne. When we returned home I found Count Pozzo di 
Borgo waiting for me, a personable man, inclined to be rather corpu- 
lent — handsome features, with all the Corsican fire in his eye. He 
was quite kind and communicative. Lord Granville had also called, 
and sent Mr. Jones [his secretary] to invite us to dinner to-morrow. 
In the evening at the Odeon, where we saw Ivanhoe. It was superb- 
ly got up, the Norman soldiers wearing pointed helmets and what 
resembled much hauberks of mail, which looked very well. The 
number of the attendants, and the skill with which they were moved 
and grouped on the stage, were well worthy of notice. It was an 
opera, and of course the story greatly mangled, and the dialogue in 
a great part nonsense. Yet it was strange to hear anything like the 
words which I (then in an agony of pain with spasms in my stomach) 
dictated to William Laidlaw at Abbotsford, now recited in a foreign 
tongue, and for the amusement of a strange people. I little thought 
to have survived the completing of this novel.' 

1 Ivanhoe miglit have borne a motto some- the gout: " Fredericus i. in tormcntis pinxit. " 

what analogous to the inscription which Fred- — Recollections of Sir Walter Scott, p. 240. 

erick the Great's predecessor used to afiQx to Lond. 1837. 
bis attempts at portrait-painting when he had 



NOVEMBER 

November 1. — I suppose the ravishing is going to begin, for we 
have had the Dames des Halles, with a bouquet like a maypole, and 
a speech full of honey and oil, which cost me ten francs ; also a small 
worshipper, who would not leave his name, but came seulement pour 
avoir le plaisir, lafelicite etc., etc. All this jargon I answer with cor- 
responding blarney of my own, for " have I not licked the black stone 
of that ancient castle ?" As to French, I speak it as it comes, and 
like Doeg in Absalom and Achitophel — 

" dash on through thick and thin, 

Through sense and nonsense, never out nor in." ' 

We went this morning with M. Gallois to the Church of St. Gene- 
vieve, and thence to the College Henri iv., where I saw once more 
my old friend Chevalier.' He was unwell, swathed in a turban of 
nightcaps and a multiplicity of robes de chambre ; but he had all the 
heart and the vivacity of former times. I was truly glad to see the 
kind old man. We were unlucky in our day for sights, this being a 
high festival — All Souls' Day. We were not allowed to scale the 
steeple of St. Genevieve, neither could we see the animals at the 
Jardin des Plantes, who, though they have no souls, it is supposed, 
and no interest of course in the devotions of the day, observe it in 
strict retreat, like the nuns of Kilkenny. I met, however, one lioness 
walking at large in the Jardin, and was introduced. This was Ma- 
dame de Souza,^ the authoress of some well-known French romances 
of a very classical character, I am told, for I have never read them. 
She must have been beautiful, and is still well-looked. She is the 
mother of the handsome Count de Flahault, and had a very well-look- 
ing daughter with her, besides a son or two. She was very agreea- 
ble. We are to meet again. The day becoming decidedly rainy, we 
returned along the Boulevards by the Bridge of Austerlitz, but the 
weather was so indifferent as to spoil the fine show. 

We dined at the Ambassador's — Lord Granville, formerly Lord 
Leveson Gower. He inhabits the same splendid house which Lord 
Castlereagh had in 1815, namely, Numero 30, Rue du Fauxbourg St. 

1 For an account of M. Chevalier, and an in- the subject of an article in the Edinburgh^ No. 
terview in 1815 with David "of the blood- 68, written by Moore. At the time Scott met 
stained brush," see ii/e, vol. v. p. 87. her she had just lost her second husband, who 

is remembered by his magnificent editions of 

* Madame de Souza-Botelho, author oi AdeU Camoens' Lusiad, on which it is said he spent 
de Senanges, and other works, which formed about £4000. Mme. de Souza died in 1836. 



Nov. 1826.] JOURNAL 191 

Honore. It once belonged to Pauline Borghese, and if its walls 
could speak, they might tell us mighty curious stories. Without 
their having any tongue, they spoke to my feelings " with most mi- 
raculous organ. "^ In these halls I had often seen and conversed fa- 
miliarly with many of the great and powerful, who won the world by 
their swords, and divided it by their counsel. 

Here I saw very much of poor Lord Castlereagh — a man of sense, 
presence of mind, courage, and fortitude, which carried him through 
many an affair of critical moment, when finer talents might have 
stuck in the mire. He had been, I think, indifferently educated, and 
his mode of speaking being far from logical or correct, he was some- 
times in danger of becoming almost ridiculous, in spite of his lofty 
presence, which had all the grace of the Seymours, and his deter- 
mined courage.^ But then he was always up to the occasion, and 
upon important matters was an orator to convince, if not to delight, 
his hearers. He is gone, and my friend Stanhope also, whose kind- 
ness this town so strongly recalls. It is remarkable they were the 
only persons of sense and credibility who both attested supernat- 
ural appearances on their own evidence, and both died in the same 
melancholy manner. I shall always tremble when any friend of mine 
becomes visionary.' 

I have seen in these rooms the Emperor Alexander, Platoff, 
Schwarzenberg, old Blucher, Fouche, and many a marechal whose 
truncheon had guided armies — all now at peace, without subjects, 
without dominion, and where their past life, perhaps, seems but the 
recollection of a feverish dream. What a group would this band 
have made in the gloomy regions described in the Odyssey ! But to 
lesser things. We were most kindly received by Lord and Lady Gran- 
ville, and met many friends, some of them having been guests at 
Abbotsford; among these were Lords Ashley and Morpeth — there 
were also Charles Ellis (Lord Seaford now), cum plurimis aliis. Anne 
saw for the first time an entertainment a la mode de France^ where the 
gentlemen left the parlour with the ladies. In diplomatic houses it is a 
good way of preventing political discussion, which John Bull is always 
apt to introduce with the second bottle. We left early, and came home 
at ten, much pleased with Lord and Lady Granville's kindness, though 
it was to be expected, as our recommendations came from Windsor. 

November 2. — Another gloomy day — a pize upon it ! — and we have 
settled to go to Saint Cloud, and dine, if possible, with the Drum- 
monds at Auteuil. Besides, I expect poor W. R. S[pencer] to break- 
fast. There is another thought which depresses me. 

I Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2. Boy, is that one night, when he was in bar- 

a The following mixed metaphor is said to ^^cks and alone, he saw a figure glide frona the 

have been taken from one of his speeches:- fireplace the face becoming brighter as it ap- 

" Ministers were not to look on like Crocko- Proached him. On Lord Castlereagh steppmg 

diles, with their hands in their breeches' pock- fo™d ^o meet it, the figure retired aga^n, 

ets doing nothing " *°^ ^^ ^® advanced it gradually faded from his 

' ^ ^' view. Sir Walter does not tell us of his friend 

^ The story regarding Castlereagh's Radiant Stanhope's ghostly experience. 



192 JOURNAL [Nov. 

Well — but let us jot down a little politics, as my book has a pret- 
ty firm lock. The Whigs may say what they please, but I think the 
Bourbons will stand. Gallois, no great Royalist, says that the Duke 
of Orleans lives on the best terms with the reigning family, which is 
wise on his part, for the golden fruit may ripen and fall of itself, but 
it would be dangerous to 

"Lend the crowd his arm to shake the tree."^ 

The army, which was Bonaparte's strength, is now very much changed 
by the gradual influence of time, which has removed many, and made 
invalids of many more. The citizens are neutral, and if the King will 
govern according to the Charte, and, what is still more, according to 
the habits of the people, he will sit firm enough, and the constitution 
will gradually attain more and more reverence as age gives it author- 
ity, and distinguishes it from those temporary and ephemeral govern- 
ments, which seemed only set up to be pulled down. The most dan- 
gerous point in the present state of France is that of religion. It is, 
no doubt, excellent in the Bourbons to desire to make France a relig- 
ious country ; but they begin, I think, at the wrong end. To press 
the observances and ritual of religion on those who are not influenced 
by its doctrines is planting the growing tree with its head downwards. 
Rites are sanctified by belief ; but belief can never arise out of an en- 
forced observance of ceremonies; it only makes men detest what is 
imposed on them by compulsion. Then these Jesuits, who constitute 
emphatically an imperium in imperio, labouring first for the benefit of 
their own order, and next for that of the Roman See — what is it but 
the introduction into France of a foreign influence whose interest may 
often run counter to the general welfare of the kingdom ? 

We have enough of ravishment. M. Meurice writes me that he is 
ready to hang himself that we did not find accommodation at his ho- 
tel ; and Madame Mirbel came almost on her knees to have permission 
to take my portrait. I was cruel ; but, seeing her weeping-ripe, con- 
sented she should come to-morrow and work while I wrote. A Rus- 
sian Princess Galitzin, too, demands to see me in the heroic vein ; 
^^Elle vouloit traverser les mers pour aller voir S. W. /S'.," and offers 
me a rendezvous at my hotel. This is precious tomfoolery; however, 
it is better than being neglected like a fallen sky-rocket, which seemed 
like to be my fate last year. 

We went to Saint Cloud with my old friend Mr. Drummond, now 
at a pretty maison de campagne at Auteuil. Saint Cloud, besides its 
unequalled views, is rich in remembrances. I did not fail to revisit 
the Orangerie, out of which Bon. expelled the Council of [Five Hun- 
dred]. I thought I saw the scoundrels jumping the windows, with 
the bayonets at their rumps. What a pity the house was not two sto- 
ries high ! I asked the Swiss some questions on the locale, which he 

> Dryden's Absalom and Achitophel—Cha,Ta,cter of Shaftesbury — j. g. r,. 



1826.] JOURNAL 193 

answered with becoming caution, saying, however, that " he was not 
present at the time." There are also new remembrances. A separate 
garden, laid out as a playground for the royal children, is called 11 
Trocadero,^ from the siege of Cadiz [1823]. But the Bourbons should 
not take military ground — it is firing a pop-gun in answer to a battery 
of cannon. 

All within the house is changed. Every trace of Nap. or his reign 
totally done away, as if traced in sand over which the tide has passed. 
Moreau and Pichegru's portraits hang in the royal ante-chamber. The 
former has a mean look ; the latter has been a strong and stern-look- 
ing man. I looked at him, and thought of his death-struggles. In 
the guard-room were the heroes of La Vendee — Charette with his 
white bonnet, the two La Rochejacqueleins, Lescure, in an attitude of 
prayer, StofBet, the gamekeeper, with others. 

We dined at Auteuil. Mrs. Drummond, formerly the beautiful 
Cecilia Telfer, has lost her looks, but kept her kind heart. On our 
return, went to the Italian opera, and saw Figaro. Anne liked the 
music ; to me it was all caviare. A Mr. dined with us ; sensi- 
ble, liberal in his politics, but well informed and candid. 

November 3. — Sat to Mad. Mirbel — Spencer at breakfast. Went 
out and had a long interview with Marshal Macdonald, the purport of 
which I have put down elsewhere. Visited Princess Galitzin, and also 
Cooper, the American novelist. This man, who has shown so much 
genius, has a good deal of the manner, or want of manner, peculiar to 
his countrymen.^ He proposed to me a mode of publishing in Amer- 
ica by entering the book as [the] property of a citizen. I will think 
of this. Every little helps, as the tod says, when, etc. At night at 
the Theatre de Madame, where we saw two petit pieces, Le Mariage de 
Raison and Le plus beau jour de ma vie — both excellently played. Af- 
terwards at Lady Granville's rout, which was as splendid as any I ever 
saw — and I have seen beaucoup dans ce genre. A great number of la- 
dies of the first rank were present, and if honeyed words from pretty 
lips could surfeit, I had enough of them. One can swallow a great 
deal of whipped cream, to be sure, and it does not hurt an old stom- 
ach. 

November 4. — Anne goes to sit to Mad. Mirbel. I called after ten, 

^ The name has since been bestowed on the giving, as a reason for his silence, the words of 

high ground on the bank of the Seine, on which Dr. Johnson regarding his meeting with George 

was built the Palace in connection with the In- iii. : "It was not for me to bandy compliments 

ternatioual Exhibition of 1878. with my sovereign." These two "lions" met 

on four occasions, viz., on the 3d, 4th, and 6th 

2 It should be noted that Scott wrote "man- November, Scott leaving Paris next day. 
ner" not "manners," as in all previous edi- It cannot be too widely known that if Scott 

tions the word is printed. Of Cooper, his lat- never derived any profits from the enormous 

est American biographer, Mr. Lounsbury, saj^s sale of his works in America, it was not the 

there was in his manner at times "a self-asser- fault of his brother author, who urged him re- 

tiou that often bordered, or seemed to border, peatedly to try the plan here proposed. Wheth- 

on arrogance " (p. 50). er the attempt was made is unknown, but it is 

Of this interview. Cooper is said to have re- amusing to see one cause of Scott's hesitation 

corded in after years that Scott was so obligin<^ was the fear that the American public would 

as to make him a number of flattering speech- not get his works at the low prices to which 

es, which, however, he did not repay in kind, they had been accustomed. 
13 



194 JOURNAL [Nov. 

Mr. Cooper and Gallois having breakfasted with me. The former 
seems quite serious in desiring the American attempt. I must, how- 
ever, take care not to give such a monopoly as to prevent the Ameri- 
can public from receiving the works at the prices they are accustomed 
to. I think I may as well try if the thing can be done. 

After ten I went with Anne to the Tuileries, where we saw 
the royal family pass through the Glass Gallery as they went to 
Chapel. We were very much looked at in our turn, and the King, 
on passing out, did me the honour to say a few civil words, which 
produced a great sensation. Mad. la Dauphine and Mad. de Berri 
curtsied, smiled, and looked extremely gracious ; and smiles, bows, 
and curtsies rained on us like odours, from all the courtiers and 
court ladies of the train. We were conducted by an officer of the 
Royal Gardes du Corps to a convenient place in chapel, where we 
had the pleasure of hearing the grand mass performed with excellent 
music. 

I had a perfect view of the King and royal family. The King is 
the same in age as I knew him in youth at Holyrood House — debonair 
and courteous in the highest degree. Mad. Dauphine resembles very 
much the prints of Marie Antoinette, in the profile especially. She is 
not, however, beautiful, her features being too strong, but they an- 
nounce a great deal of character, and the princess whom Bonaparte 
used to call the man of the family. She seemed very attentive to her 
devotions. The Duchess of Berri seemed less immersed in the cere- 
mony, and yawned once or twice. She is a lively-looking blonde — 
looks as if she were good-humoured and happy, by no means pretty, 
and has a cast with her eyes ; splendidly adorned with diamonds, how- 
ever. After this gave Mad. Mirbel a sitting, where I encountered le 
general^ her uncle, ^ who was chef de Vetat major to Bonaparte. He 
was very communicative, and seemed an interesting person, by no 
means over much prepossessed in favour of his late master, whom he 
judged impartially, though with affection. 

We came home and dined in quiet, having refused all tempta- 
tions to go out in the evening ; this on Anne's account as well as my 
own. It is not quite gospel, though Solomon says it — the eye can be 
tired with seeing, whatever he may allege in the contrary. And 
then there are so many compliments. I wish for a little of the old 
Scotch causticity. I am something like the bee that sips treacle. 

November 5. — I believe I must give up my Journal till I leave 
Paris. The French are literally outrageous in their civilities — bounce 
in at all hours, arid drive one half mad with compliments. I am un- 
gracious not to be so entirely thankful as I ought to this kind and 
merry people. We breakfasted with Mad. Mirbel, where were the 
Dukes of Fitz-James, and, I think, Duras,^ goodly company — but all's 

1 General Monthion. and Duras was related to Feversham. James's 

general at Sedgemoor. Both died in the same 

2 Fitz-James was great-grandson of James ii. , year, 1835. 



1826.] JOURNAL 195 

one for that. I made rather an impatient sitter, wishing to talk much 
more than was agreeable to Madame. Afterwards we went to the 
Champs Elysees, where a balloon was let off, and all sorts of frolics 
performed for the benefit of the hons gens de Paris — besides stuffing 
them with victuals. I wonder how such a civic festival would go off 
in London or Edinburgh, or especially in Dublin. To be sure, they 
would not introduce their shillelahs ! But in the classic taste of the 
French, there were no such gladiatorial doings. To be sure, they have 
a natural good-humour and gaiety which inclines them to be pleased 
with themselves, and everything about them. 

We dined at the Ambassador's, where was a large party. Lord 
Morpeth, the Duke of Devonshire, and others — all were very kind. 
Pozzo di Borgo there, and disposed to be communicative. A large 
soiree. Home at eleven. These hours are early, however. 

November 6. — Cooper came to breakfast, but we were obsedes par- 
tout. Such a number of Frenchmen bounced in successively, and ex- 
ploded, I mean discharged, their compliments, that I could hardly find 
an opportunity to speak a word, or entertain Mr. Cooper at all. After 
this we sat again for our portraits. Mad. Mirbel took care not to 
have any one to divert my attention, but I contrived to amuse myself 
with some masons finishing a fagade opposite to me, who placed their 
stones, not like Inigo Jones, but in the most lubberly way in the 
world, with the help of a large wheel, and the application of strength 
of hand. John Smith of Darnick, and two of his men, would have 
done more with a block and pulley than the whole score of them. 
The French seem far behind in machinery. — We are almost eaten up 
with kindness, but that will have its end. I have had to parry several 
presents of busts, and so forth. The funny thing was the airs of my 
little friend. We had a most affectionate parting — wet, wet cheeks 
on the lady's side.* The pebble-hearted cur shed as few tears as Crab 
of dogged memory.* 

Went to Galignani's, where the brothers, after some palaver, 
offered me £105 for the sheets of Napoleon, to be reprinted at Paris 
in English. I told them I would think of it. I suppose Treuttel and 
Wurtz had apprehended something of this kind, for they write me 
that they had made a bargain with my publisher (Cadell, I suppose) 
for the publishing of my book in all sorts of ways. I must look 
into this. 

Dined with Marshal Macdonald and a splendid party f amongst 
others. Marshal Marmont — middle size, stout-made, dark complexion, 
and looks sensible. The French hate him much for his conduct in 

1 Madame Mirbel, who painted Scott at this has been engraved at least once — by J. T.Wedg- 

time, continued to be a favourite artist with wood. 

the French (Bonapartist, Bourbon, and Orlean- 2 xwo Gentlemen of Verona, Act 11. So. 3. — 

ist) for the next twenty years. Among her j. G. r-. 

latest sitters (1841) was Scott's angry corre- ^ xhe Marshal had visited Scotland in 1825 — 

spondent of four months later — General Gour- and Scott saw a good deal of him under the 

gaud. Madame Mirbel died in 1849. The por- roof of his kinsman, Mr. Macdonald Buchanan, 

trait alluded to was probably a miniature which — j. g. l. 



196 JOURNAL [Nov. 

1814, but it is only making him the scape-goat. Also, I saw Mons. 
de Mole, but especially the Marquis de Lauristou, who received me 
most kindly. He is personally like my cousin Colonel Russell. I 
learned that his brother, Louis Law,^ my old friend, was alive, and the 
father of a large family. I was most kindly treated, and had my 
vanity much flattered by the men who had acted such important parts 
talking to me in the most frank manner. 

In the evening to Princess Galitzin, where were a whole covey of 
Princesses of Russia arrayed in tartan ! with music and singing to 
boot. The person in whom I was most interested was Mad. de 
Boufflers,^ upwards of eighty, very polite, very pleasant, and with all 
the agremens of a French Court lady of the time of Mad. Sevigne, or 
of the correspondent rather of Horace Walpole. Cooper was there, 
so the Scotch and American lions took the field together. — Home, 
and settled our affairs to depart. 

November 7. — Off at seven ; breakfasted at Beaumont, and pushed 
on to Airaines. This being a forced march, we had bad lodgings, 
wet wood, uncomfortable supper, damp beds, and an extravagant 
charge. I was never colder in my life than when I waked with the 
sheets clinging round me like a shroud. 

Novemher 8. — We started at six in the morning, having no need 
to be called twice, so heartily was I weary of my comfortless couch. 
Breakfasted at Abbeville ; then pushed on to Boulogne, expecting to 
find the packet ready to start next morning, and so to have had the 
advantage of tbe easterly tide. But, lo ye ! the packet was not to 
sail till next day. So after shrugging our shoulders — being the sol- 
ace a la mode de France — and recruiting ourselves with a pullet and 
a bottle of Chablis a la mode d'' Angleterre, we set off for Calais after 
supper, and it was betwixt three and four in the morning before we 
got to Dessein's, when the house was full, or reported to be so. AVe 
could only get two wretched brick-paved garrets, as cold and moist as 
those of Airaines, instead of the comforts which we were received 
with at our arrival. But I was better prepared. Stripped off the 
sheets, and lay down in my dressing-gown, and so roughed it out — 
tant bien que mal. 

1 Lauriston, the ancient seat of the Laws, so Bouflaers], the correspondent not only of Wal- 
faraous in French history, is very near Edin- pole, but of David Hume, must have been 
burgh, and the estate was in their possession nearer a hundred than eighty years of age at 
at the time of the RevoUition. Two or three this date, if we are to believe the Biographie 
cadets of the family were of the first emigra- Univejselle, which gives 1724 as the date of her 
tion, and one of them (M. Louis Law) was a birth. It does not record her death. It is 
frequent guest of the Poet's father, and after- known that she took refuge in England during 
wards corresponded during many years with the Revolution; but Count Paul de Remusat, 
himself I am not sure whether it was M. who has been consulted on the subject, has 
Louis Law whose French designation so much kindly pointed out that the lady of whom Scott 
amused the people of Edinburgh. One brother speaks must have been the widow of the Chev- 
of the Marquis de Lauriston, however, was alier de Boufflers-Remencourt, known by his 
styled Le Chevalier de Mutton-hole, this being poems and stories. Her maiden name was 
the name of a village on the Scotch property. Jean de Manville, and her first husband was a 
—J. G. L. de Comte de Sabran. She died in 1827.— See 

2 The Madame de Boufflers best known to Correspondance ineditede la Comtessede Sabran, 
the world [Hippolyte de Saujon Comtesse de Paris, 8vo, 1875. 



1826.] JOURNAL 197 

November 9. — At four in the morning we were called ; at six we 
got on board the packet, where I found a sensible and conversible 
man — a very pleasant circumstance. The day was raw and cold, the 
wind and tide surly and contrary, the passage slow, and Anne, con- 
trary to her wont, excessively sick. We had little trouble at the 
Custom House, thanks to the secretary of the Embassy, Mr. Jones, who 
gave me a letter to Mr. Ward. [At Dover] Mr. Ward came with the 
Lieutenant-Governor of the castle, and wished us to visit that ancient 
fortress. I regretted much that our time was short, and the weather 
did not admit of our seeing views, so we could only thank the gentle- 
men in declining their civility. 

The caetle, partly ruinous, seems to have been very fine. The 
Cliff, to which Shakespeare gave his immortal name, is, as all the 
world knows, a great deal lower than his description implies. Our 
Dover friends, justly jealous of the reputation of their cliff, impute this 
diminution of its consequence to its having fallen in repeatedly since 
the poet's time. I think it more likely that the imagination of Shake- 
speare, writing perhaps at a period long after he may have seen the 
rock, had described it such as \q conceived it to have been. Besides, 
Shakespeare was born in a flat country, and Dover Cliff is at least lofty 
enough to have suggested the exaggerated features to his fancy. At 
all events, it has maintained its reputation better than the Tarpeian 
Rock ; — no man could leap from it and live. 

Left Dover after a hot luncheon about four o'clock, and reached 
London at half-past three in the morning. So adieu to Id belle France^ 
and welcome merry England.^ 

[Pall Mali,'] November 10. — Ere I leave la belle France^ however, 
it is fit I should express my gratitude for the unwontedly kind re- 
ception which I met with at all hands. It would be an unworthy 
piece of affectation did I not allow that I have been pleased — highly 
pleased — to find a species of literature intended only for my own 
country has met such an extensive and favourable reception in a for- 
eign land where there was so much a priori to oppose its progress. 

For my work I think I have done a good deal ; but, above all, I 
have been confirmed strongly in the impressions I had previously 
formed of the character of Nap., and may attempt to draw him with 
a firmer hand. 

The succession of new people and unusual incidents has had a 
favourable effect [on my mind], which was becoming rutted like an 
ill-kept highway. My thoughts have for some time flowed in another 
and pleasanter channel than through the melancholy course into which 
my solitary and deprived state had long driven them, and which gave 
often pain to be endured without complaint, and without sympathy. 
" For this relief," as Francisco says in Hamlet, " much thanks." 



1 Readers who may wish to compare with 1815 will find a brilliant record of the latter in 
the visit of 1826 Scott's impressions of Paris in PauVs Letters, xii.-xvi. 



198 JOURNAL [Nov. 

To-day I visited the public offices, and prosecuted my researches. 
Left inquiries for the Duke of York, who has recovered from a most 
desperate state. His legs had been threatened with mortification ; 
but he was saved by a critical discharge ; also visited the Duke of 
Wellington, Lord Melville, and others, besides the ladies in Piccadilly. 
Dined and spent the evening quietly in Pall Mall. 

November IL — Croker came to breakfast, and we were soon after 
joined by Theodore Hook, alias " John Bull " ;^ he has got as fat as the 
actual monarch of the herd. Lockhart sat still with us, and we had, 
as Gil Bias says, a delicious morning, spent in abusing our neighbours, 
at which my three neighbours are no novices any more than I am my- 
self, though (like Puss in Boots, who only caught mice for his amuse- 
ment) I am only a chamber counsel in matters of scandal. The fact 
is, I have refrained, as much as human frailty will permit, from all 
satirical composition. Here is an ample subject for a little black- 
balling in the case of Joseph Hume, the great Economist, who has 
[managed] the Greek loan so egregiously. I do not lack personal 
provocation (see 13th March last), yet I won't attack him — at present 
at least — but quHl se garde de moi : 

"I'm not a king, nor nae sic thing, 
My word it may not stand; 
And Joseph may a buffet bide, 
Come he beneath my brand." 

At dinner we had a little blow-out on Sophia's part : Lord Dud- 
ley, Mr. Hay, Under Secretary of State [Sir Thomas Lawrence, etc.]. 
Mistress (as she now calls herself) Joanna Baillie, and her sister, came 
in the evening. The whole went off pleasantly. 

November 12. — Went to sit to Sir T. L. to finish the picture for 
his Majesty, which every one says is a very fine one. I think so my- 
self ; and wonder how Sir Thomas has made so much out of an old 
weather-beaten block. But I believe the hard features of old Dons 
like myself are more within the compass of the artist's skill than the 

1 A Sunday newspaper started in 1820, to a nobleman called upon him, and asked if 

advocate the cause of George iv., and to vilify he could find him in Edinburgh some clever 

the Queen and her friends, male and female. fellow to undertake the editorship of a paper 

The first number was published on December about to be established. Sir Walter suggested 

17th, and '-told at once from the convulsed that his Lordship need not go so far a-field, 

centre to the extremity of the Kingdom. described Hook's situation, and the impression 

There was talent of every sort in the paper he had received of him from his table talk, and 

that could have been desired or devised for his Magazine, the Orcadian. This was all that 

such a purpose. It seemed as if a legion of occurred, but when, towards the end of the 

sarcastic devils had brooded in Synod over the year, John Bull electrified London, Sir Walter 

elements of withering derision." Hook, how- confessed that he could not help fancying that 

ever, was the master spirit, the majority of his mentioning this man's name had its conse- 

the lampoons in prose, and all the original po- quences. 

etry in the early volumes from the "Hunting Hook, in spite of his £2000 per annum for 

the Hare," were from his own pen, except, several years from John Bull, and large prices 

perhaps, "Michael's Dinner." which has been received for bis novels, died in poverty in 1841, 

laid at Canning's door. a prematurely old man. His sad story may be 

Oddly enough Scott appears to have been the read in a most powerful sketch in the Quar- 

indirect means of placing Hook in the editorial terly Review, attributed to Mr. Lockhart 
chair. When he was in Loudon^ in April, 1820, 



1826.] JOURNAL 199 

lovely face and delicate complexion of females. Came home after a 
heavy shower. I had a long conversation about with Lock- 
hart. All that was whispered is true — a sign how much better our 
domestics are acquainted with the private affairs of our neighbours 
than we are. A dreadful tale of incest and seduction, and nearly of 
blood also — horrible beyond expression in its complications and 
events — "And yet the end is not ;" — and this man was amiable, and 
seemed the soul of honour — laughed, too, and was the soul of society. 
It is a mercy our own thoughts are concealed from each other. Oh ! if, 
at our social table, we could see what passes in each bosom around, 
we would seek dens and caverns to shun human society ! To see the 
projector trembling for his falling speculations ; the voluptuary rue- 
ing the event of his debauchery ; the miser wearing out his soul for 
the loss of a guinea — all — all bent upon vain hopes and vainer regrets 
— we should not need to go to the hall of the Caliph Yathek to see 
men's hearts broiling under their black veils. ^ Lord keep us from 
all temptation, for we cannot be our own shepherd ! 

We dined to-day at Lady Stafford's [at West-hill].'^ Lord S. looks 
very poorly, but better than I expected. No company, excepting 
Sam Rogers and Mr. Grenville,' — the latter is better know^n by the 
name of Tom Grenville — a very amiable and accomplished man, whom 
I knew better about twenty years since. Age has touched him, as it 
has doubtless affected me. The great lady received us with the most 
cordial kindness, and expressed herself, I am sure, sincerely, desirous 
to be of service to Sophia. 

November 13. — I consider Charles's business as settled by a pri- 
vate intimation which I had to that effect from Sir W. K. ; so I need 
negotiate no further, but wait the event. Breakfasted at home, and 
somebody with us, but the whirl of visits so great that I have already 
forgot the party. Lockhart and I dined at an official person's, where 
there was a little too much of that sort of flippant wit, or rather 
smartness which becomes the parochial Joe Miller of boards and 
offices. You must not be grave, because it might lead to improper 
discussions ; and to laugh without a joke is a hard task. Your pro- 
fessed wags are treasures to this species of company. Gil Bias was 
right in censuring the literary society of his friend Fabricio ; but 
nevertheless one or two of the mess would greatly have improved the 
conversation of his Commis. 

Went to poor Lydia White's, and found her extended on a couch, 
frightfully swelled, unable to stir, rouged, jesting, and dying. She 
has a good heart, and is really a clever creature, but unhappily, or 
rather happily, she has set up the whole staff of her rest in keeping 
literary society about her. The world has not neglected her. It is 

1 See Beckford's Vathek, Hall of Eblis. the satisfaction they must have given him." 

2 Lady Stafford says: " We were so lucky as — Sharpe's Letters, vol. ii. p. 379. 

to have Sir W. Scott here for a day, and were 3 The Right Hon. Thomas Grenville died in 

glad to see him look well, and though per- 1846 at the age of ninety-one. He left his no- 
fectly unaltered by his successes, yet enjoying ble collection of books to the nation. 



200 * JOURNAL [Nov. 

not always so bad as it is called. She can always make up her soiree, 
and generally has some people of real talent and distinction. She is 
wealthy, to be sure, and gives petit dinners, but not in a style to carry 
the point a force d'' argent. In her case the world is good-natured, 
and perhaps it is more frequently so than is generally supposed. 

November 14. — We breakfasted at honest Allan Cunningham's — 
honest Allan — a leal and true Scotsman of the old cast. A man of 
genius, besides, who only requires the tact of knowing when and 
where to stop, to attain the universal praise which ought to follow it. 
I look upon the alteration of " It 's hame and it 's hame," and "A wet 
sheet and a flowing sea," as among the best songs going. His prose 
has often admirable passages ; but he is obscure, and overlays his 
meaning, which will not do now-a-days, when he who runs must read. 

Dined at Croker's, at Kensington, with his family, the Speaker,* 
and the facetious Theodore Hook. 

We came away rather early, that Anne and I might visit Mrs. 
Arbuthnot to meet the Duke of Wellington. In all my life I never 
saw him better. He has a dozen of campaigns in his body — and 
tough ones. Anne was delighted with the frank manners of this 
unequalled pride of British war, and me he received with all his usu- 
al kindness. He talked away about Bonaparte, Russia, and France. 

November 15. — At breakfast a conclave of medical men about 
poor little Johnnie Lockhart. They give good words, but I cannot 
help fearing the thing is very precarious, and I feel a miserable an- 
ticipation of what the parents are to undergo. It is wrong, however, 
to despair. I was myself a very weak child, and certainly am one of 
the strongest men of my age in point of constitution. Sophia and 
Anne went to the Tower, I to the Colonial OflBce, where I laboured 
hard. 

Dined with the Duke of Wellington. Anne with me, who could 
not look enough at the vainqueur du vainqueur de la terre. The party 
were Mr. and Mrs. Peel, and Mr. and Mrs. Arbuthnot,^ Vesey Fitzger- 
ald, Bankes, and Croker, with Lady Bathurst and Lady Georgina. 
One gentleman took much of the conversation, and gave us, with un- 
necessary emphasis, and at superfluous length, his opinion of a late 
gambling transaction. This spoiled the evening. I am sorry for the 

occurrence though, for Lord is fetlock deep in it, and it looks 

like a vile bog. This misfortune, with the foolish incident at , 

will not be suffered to fall to the ground, but will be used as a coun- 
terpoise to the Greek loan. Peel asked me, in private, my opinion 
of three candidates for the Scotch gown, and I gave it him candidly. 
We will see if it has weight.^ 

1 The Right Hon. Charles Manners Suttou, lington. She died in 1838, Mr. Arbuthnot in 
afterwards Viscount Canterbury. He died in 1850. 

1845. 3 Sir Walter had recommended George Crans- 

2 Mrs. Arbuthnot was Harriet, third daugh- toun, his early friend, one of the brethren of 
ter of the Hon. H- Fane, and wife of Charles the mountain, who succeeded Lord Hermand, 
Arbuthnot, a great friend of the Duke of Wei- and took his seat on the Scotch Bench before 



1826.] JOURNAL 201 

I begin to tire of my gaieties ; and the late hours and constant 
feasting disagree with me. I wish for a sheep's head and whisky 
toddy against all the French cookery and champagne in the world. 

Well, I suppose I might have been a Judge of Session this term — 
attained, in short, the grand goal proposed to the ambition of a Scot- 
tish lawyer. It is better, however, as it is, while, at least, I can main 
tain my literary reputation. 

I had some conversation to-day with Messrs. Longman and Co. 
They agreed to my deriving what advantage I could in America, and 
that very willingly. 

November 16. — Breakfasted with Rogers, with my daughters and 
Lockhart. R. was exceedingly entertaining, in his dry, quiet, sarcastic 
manner. At eleven to the Duke of Wellington, who gave me a bun- 
dle of remarks on Bonaparte's Russian campaign, written in his car- 
riage during his late mission to St. Petersburg.* It is furiously 
scrawled, and the Russian names hard to distinguish, but it shall do 
me yeoman's service. Then went to Pentonville, to old Mr. Handley, 
a solicitor of the old school, and manager of the Devonshire proper- 
ty. Had an account of the claim arising on the estate of one Mrs. 
Owen, due to the representatives of my poor wife's mother. He was 
desperately excursive, and spoke almost for an hour, but the prospect 
of £4000 to my children made me a patient auditor. Thence I 
passed to the Colonial Office, where I concluded my extracts. [Lock- 
hart and I] dined with Croker at the Admiralty au grand convert. 
No less than five Cabinet Ministers were present — Canning, Huskis- 
son, Melville, [Peel,] and Wellington, with sub-secretaries by the bush- 
el. The cheer was excellent, but the presence of too many men of 
distinguished rank and power always freezes the conversation. Each 
lamp shines brightest when placed by itself ; when too close, they 
neutralise each other.^ 

November 17. — My morning here began with the arrival of Ba- 
hauder Jah ; soon after Mr. Wright ;^ then I was called out to James 
Scott the young painter. I greatly fear this modest and amiable 
creature is throwing away his time. Next came an animal who is 
hunting out a fortune in Chancery, which has lain perdu for thirty 
years. The fellow, who is in figure and manner the very essence of 
the creature called a sloth, has attached himself to this pursuit with 
the steadiness of a well-scented beagle. I believe he will actually 
get the prize. 

the end of the month. The appointment sat- War in Russia in 1812," in the Despatches ed- 

isfied both political parties, thovlgh Cockburn ited by his Son (Dec. 1825 to May, 1827), Mur- 

said that "his removal was a great loss to the ray, 1868, vol. i. 8vo, pp. 1-53. Sir Walter 

bar which he had long adorned, and where he Scott's letter to the Duke on the subject is 

had the entire confidence of the public." An given at p. 509 of the same volume, and see 

admirable sketch of Cranstouu is given in No. this Journal under Feb. 15, 1827. 

32 of Peter^s Letters. He retired in 1839, and 2 in returning from this dinner Sir Walter 

died at Corehouse, his picturesque seat on the said, "I have seen some of these great men at 

Clyde, in 1850. the same table /or the last iime."— j. g. l. 

1 This striking paper was afterwards printed 3 Mr. William Wright, Barrister, Lincoln's 

in full under the title, "Memorandum on the Inn.— See Life, vol. viii. p. 84. 



202 JOURNAL [Nov. 

Sir Jolin Malcolm acknowledges and recommends my Persian vis- 
itor Bruce. 

Saw the Duke of York. The change on H.R.H. is most wonder- 
ful. From a big, burly, stout man, with a thick and sometimes an 
inarticulate mode of speaking, he has sunk into a thin-faced, slender- 
looking old man, who seems diminished in his very size. I could 
hardly believe I saw the same person, though I was received with his 
usual kindness. He speaks much more distinctly than formerly ; his 
complexion is clearer ; in short, H.R.H. seems, on the whole, more 
healthy after this crisis than when in the stall-fed state, for such it 
seemed to be, in which I remember him. God grant it! his life is 
of infinite value to the King and country — it is a breakwater behind 
the throne. 

November 18. — Was introduced by Rogers to Mad. D'Arblay, the 
celebrated authoress of Evelina and Cecilia, — an elderly lady, with 
no remains of personal beauty, but with a gentle manner and a pleas- 
ing expression t^f countenance. She told me she had wished to see 
two persons — myself, of course, being one ; the other George Can- 
ning, This was really a compliment to be pleased with — a nice little 
handsome pat of butter made up by a neat-handed Phillis^ of a dairy- 
maid, instead of the grease, fit only for cart - wheels, which one is 
dosed with by the pound. 

Mad. D'Arblay told us the common story of Dr. Burney, her fa- 
ther, having brought home her own first work, and recommended it 
to her perusal, was erroneous. Her father was in the secret of Eve- 
lina being printed. But the following circumstances may have given 
rise to the story : — Dr. Burney was at Streatham soon after the pub- 
lication, where he found Mrs. Thrale recovering from her confine- 
ment, low at the moment, and out of spirits. While they were talk- 
ing together, Johnson, who sat beside in a kind of reverie, suddenly 
broke out, "You should read this new work, madam — you should 
read Evelina ; every one says it is excellent, and they are right." 
The delighted father obtained a commission from Mrs. Thrale to 
purchase his daughter's work, and retired the happiest of men. 
Mad. D'Arblay said she was wild with joy at this decisive evidence 
of her literary success, and that she could only give vent to her rapture 
by dancing and skipping round a mulberry-tree in the garden. She 
was very young at this time. I trust I shall see this lady again. 
She has simple and apparently amiable manners, with quick feehngs. 

Dined at Mr. Peel's with Lord Liverpool, Duke of Wellington, 
Croker, Bankes, etc. The conversation very good — Peel taking the 
lead in his own house, which he will not do elsewhere. We can- 
vassed the memorable criminal case of Ashford,^ Peel almost con- 

1 Milton's V Allegro.— }. g. l. the law was abolished in 1819.— See Notts and 

2 A murder committed in 1817. The accused Queries, 2d series, vol. xi. pp. 88, '2.')9. 317, and 
claimed the privilege of Wager of Battle, which p. 431 for a curious account of the bibliography 
was allowed by the Court for the last time, as of this very singular case. 



1826.] JOURNAL 203 

vinced of the man's innocence. Should have been at the play, but 
sat too late at Mr. Peel's. 

So ends my campaign among these magnificoes and potent 
signiors,^ with whom I have found, as usual, the warmest acceptation. 
I wish I could turn a little of my popularity amongst them to Lock- 
hart's advantage, who cannot bustle for himself. He is out of spirits 
just now, and views things au noir. I fear Johnnie's precarious state 
is the cause. 

I finished my sittings to Lawrence, and am heartily sorry there 
should be another picture of me except that which he has finished. 
The person is remarkably like, and conveys the idea of the stout 
blunt carle that cares for few things, and fears nothing. He has 
represented the author as in the act of composition, yet has effectu- 
ally discharged all affectation from the manner and attitude. He 
seems pleased with it himself. He dined with us at Peel's yester- 
day, where, by the way, we saw the celebrated Chapeau de Paille, 
which is not a Chapeau de Paille at all. 

November 19. — Saw this morning Duke of Wellington and Duke 
of York; the former so communicative that I regretted extremely 
the length of time,'^ but have agreed on a correspondence with him. 
Trop d'honneur pour moi. The Duke of York saw me by appoint- 
ment. He seems still mending, and spoke of state affairs as a high 
Tory. Were his health good, his spirit is as strong as ever. H.R.H. 
has a devout horror of the liberals. Having the Duke of Welling- 
ton, the Chancellor, and (perhaps) a still greater person on his side, 
he might make a great fight when they split, as split they will. But 
Canning, Huskisson, and a mitigated party of Liberaux will probably 
beat them. Canning's will and eloquence are almost irresistible. But 
then the Church, justly alarmed for their property, which is plainly 
struck at, and the bulk of the landed interest, will scarce brook a 
mild infusion of Whiggery into the Administration. Well, time will 
show. 

We visited our friends Peel, Lord Gwydyr, Arbuthnot, etc., and 
left our tickets of adieu. In no instance, during my former visits to 
London, did I ever meet with such general attention and respect on 
all sides. 

Lady Louisa Stuart dined — also AVright and Mr. and Mrs. Christie. 
Dr. and Mrs. Hughes came in the evening ; so ended pleasantly our 
last night in London. 

[Oxford,] November 20. — Left London after a comfortable break- 
fast, and an adieu to the Lockhart family. If I had had but com- 
fortable hopes of their poor, pale, prostrate child, so clever and so 
interesting, I should have parted easily on this occasion, but these 
misgivings overcloud the prospect. We reached Oxford by six 
o'clock, and found Charles and his friend young Surtees waiting for 

1 Ofhdlo.—i. G. L. gretted not having seen the Duke at an earlier 

2 Sir Walter no doubt means that he re- period of his historical labours.— j. o. l. 



204 JOURNAL [Nov. 

us, with a good fire in the chimney, and a good dinner ready to be 
placed on the table. We had struggled through a cold, sulky, drizzly 
day, which deprived of all charms even the beautiful country near 
Henley. So we came from cold and darkness into light and warmth 
and society. N.B. — We had neither daylight nor moonlight to see 
the view of Oxford from the Maudlin Bridge, which I used to think 
one of the most beautiful in the world. 

Upon finance I must note that the expense of travelling has 
mounted high. I am too old to rough it, and scrub it, nor could I 
have saved fifty pounds by doing so. I have gained, however, in 
health, spirits, in a new stock of ideas, new combinations, and new 
views. My self-consequence is raised, I hope not unduly, by the 
many flattering circumstances attending my reception in the two 
capitals, and I feel confident in proportion. In Scotland I shall find 
time for labour and for economy. 

[Cheltenham,'] November 21. — Breakfasted with Charles in his 
chambers [at Brasenose], where he had everything very neat. How 
pleasant it is for a father to sit at his child's board ! It is like an 
aged man reclining under the shadow of the oak which he has planted. 
My poor plant has some storms to undergo, but were this expedition 
conducive to no more than his entrance into life under suitable au- 
spices, I should consider the toil and the expense well bestowed. 
We then sallied out to see the lions — guides being Charles, and 
friend Surtees, Mr. John Hughes, young Mackenzie (Fitz-Colin), and 
a young companion or two of Charles's. Remembering the ecstatic 
feelings with which I visited Oxford more than twenty-five years 
since, I was surprised at the comparative indifference wdth which I 
revisited the same scenes. Reginald Heber, then composing his 
Prize Poem, and imping his wings for a long flight of honourable 
distinction, is now dead in a foreign land — Hodgson and other able 
men all entombed. The towers and halls remain, but the voices 
which fill them are of modern days. Besides, the eye becomes sati- 
ated with sights, as the full soul loathes the honeycomb. I admired 
indeed, but my admiration was void of the enthusiasm which I for- 
merly felt. I remember particularly having felt, while in the Bod- 
leian, like the Persian magician who visited the enchanted library in 
the bowels of the mountain, and willingly suffered himself to be en- 
closed in its recesses,* while less eager sages retired in alarm. Now 
I had some base thoughts concerning luncheon, which was most mu- 
nificently supplied by Surtees [at his rooms in University College], 
with the aid of the best ale I ever drank in my life, the real wine of 
Ceres, and worth that of Bacchus. Dr. Jenkyns,"'' the vice-chancellor, 
did me the honour to call, but I saw him not. I called on Charles 
Douglas at All-Souls, and had a chat of an hour with him.^ 

1 See Weber's Tales of the East, 3 vols. 8vo, 2 Dr. Richard Jenkyns, Master of Balliol Col- 

Edin. 1812. History of Avicene, vol. ii. pp. 4l52- lege.— j. g. l. 

457. . 3 Charles Douglas succeeded his brother, 

BaroQ Douglas of Douglas, in 1844. 



1826.] JOURNAL 205 

Before three set out for Cheltenham, a long and uninteresting 
drive, which we achieved by nine o'clock. My sister-in-law [Mrs. 
Thomas Scott] and her daughter instantly came to the hotel, and 
seem in excellent health and spirits. 

November 22. — Breakfasted and dined with Mrs. Scott, and leav- 
ing Cheltenham at seven, pushed on to Worcester to sleep. 

November 23. — Breakfasted at Birmingham, and slept at Maccles- 
field. As we came in between ten and eleven, the people of the inn 
expressed surprise at our travelling so late, as the general distress of 
the manufacturers has rendered many of the lower class desperately 
outrageous. The inn was guarded by a special watchman, who alarm- 
ed us by giving his signal of turn out, but it proved to be a poor de- 
serter who had taken refuge among the carriages, and who was re- 
claimed by his sergeant. The people talk gloomily of winter, when 
the distress of the poor will be increased. 

November 24. — Breakfasted at Manchester. Ere we left, the sen- 
ior churchwarden came to offer us his services, to show us the town, 
principal manufactures, etc. We declined his polite offer, pleading 
haste. I found his opinion about the state of trade more agreeable 
than I had ventured to expect. He said times were mending gradu- 
ally but steadily, and that the poor-rates were decreasing, of which 
none can be so good a judge as the churchwarden. Some months 
back the people had been in great discontent on account of the power 
engines, which they conceived diminished the demand for operative 
labour. There was no politics in their discontent, however, and at 
present it was diminishing. We again pressed on — and by dint of 
exertion reached Kendal to sleep ; thus getting out of the region of 
the stern, sullen, unwashed artificers, whom you see lounging sulkily 
along the streets of the towns in Lancashire, cursing, it would seem 
by their looks, the stop of trade which gives them leisure, and the 
laws which prevent them employing their spare time. God's justice 
is requiting, and will yet further requite those who have blown up 
this country into a state of unsubstantial opulence, at the expense of 
the health and morals of the lower classes. 

November 25. — Took two pair of horses over the Shap Fells, which 
are covered with snow, and by dint of exertion reached Penrith to 
breakfast. Then rolled on till we found our own horses at Hawick, 
and returned to our own home at Abbotsford about three in the 
morning. It is well we made a forced inarch of about one hundred 
miles, for I think the snow would have stopped us had we lingered. 

\Abbot8ford^ November 26. — Consulting my purse, found my good 
£60 diminished to Quarter less Ten. In purse £8. Naturally re- 
flected how much expense has increased since I first travelled. My 
uncle's servant, during the jaunts we made together while I was a boy, 
used to have his option of a shilling per diem for board wages, and 
usually preferred it to having his charges borne. A servant nowadays, 
to be comfortable on the road, should have 4s, or 4s. 6d. board wages, 



206 JOURNAL [Nov. 

which before 1790 would have maintained his master. But if this 
be pitiful, it is still more so to find the alteration in my own temper. 
When young, on returning from such a trip as I have just had, my 
mind would have loved to dwell on all I had seen that was rich 
and rare, or have been placing, perhaps in order, the various additions 
with which I had supplied my stock of information — and now, like a 
stupid boy blundering over an arithmetical question half obliterated 
on his slate, I go stumbling on upon the audit of pounds, shillings, 
and pence. Why, the increase of charge I complain of must con- 
tinue so long as the value of the thing represented by cash continues 
to rise, or as the value of the thing representing continues to decrease 
— let the economists settle which is the right way of expressing the 
process when groats turn plenty and eggs grow dear — 

*' And so 'twill be when I am gone, 
The increasing charge will still go on, 
And other bards shall climb these hills. 
And curse your charge, dear evening bills." 

Well, the skirmish has cost me £200. I wished for information — 
and I have had to pay for it. The information is got, the money is 
spent, and so this is the only mode of accounting amongst friends. 

I have packed my books, etc., to go by cart to Edinburgh to-mor- 
row. I idled away the rest of the day, happy to find myself at home, 
which is home, though never so homely. And mine is not so home- 
ly neither ; on the contrary, I have seen in my travels none I liked s o 
well — fantastic in architecture and decoration if you please — but no 
real comfort sacrificed to fantasy. *' Ever gramercy my own purse," 
saith the song ;^ " Ever gramercy my own house," quoth I. 

November 27. — We set off after breakfast, but on reaching Fushie 
Bridge at three, found ourselves obliged to wait for horses, all being 
gone to the smithy to be roughshod in this snowy weather. So we 
stayed dinner, and Peter, coming up with his horses, bowled us into 
town about eight. Walter came and supped with us, which diverted 
some heavy thoughts. It is impossible not to compare this return to 
Edinburgh with others in more happy times. But we should rather 
recollect under what distress of mind I took up my lodgings in Mrs. 
Brown's last summer, and then the balance weighs deeply on the fa- 
vourable side. This house is comfortable and convenient." 

\Edinhurgh^ November 28. — Went to Court and resumed old hab- 
its. Dined with Walter and Jane at Mrs. Jobson's. W^hen we re- 
turned were astonished at the news of 's death, and the manner 

of it ; a quieter, more inoffensive, mild, and staid mind I never knew. 
He was free from all these sinkings of the imagination which render 
those who are liable to them the victims of occasional low spirits. 

* "But of all friends in field or towB, . 2 A furnished house in Walker street, which 

Ever gramercy," etc. , ,. „ he had taken for the winter (No. 3). 

, Dame Juh^na Bernert i 



*? 



1826.] JOURNAL 207 

All belonging to this gifted, as it is called, but often unhappy, class, 
must have felt at times that, but for the dictates of religion, or the 
natural recoil of the mind from the idea of dissolution, there have 
been times when they would have been willing to throw away life as 

a child does a broken toy. But poor was none of these : he 

was happy in his domestic relations ; and on the very day on which 
the rash deed was committed was to have embarked for rejoining his 
wife and child, whom I so lately saw anxious to impart to him their 
improved prospects. 

Lord, what are we — lords of nature ? Why, a tile drops from 
a housetop, which an elephant would not feel more than the fall of a 
sheet of pasteboard, and there lies his lordship. Or something of in- 
conceivably minute origin, the pressure of a bone, or the inflamma- 
tion of a particle of the brain takes place, and the emblem of the 
Deity destroys itself or some one else. We hold our health and our 
reason on terms slighter than one would desire were it in their choice 
to hold an Irish cabin. 

November 29. — Awaked from horrid dreams to reconsideration of 
the sad reality; he was such a kind, obliging, assiduous creature. I 
thought he came to my bedside to expostulate with me how I could 
believe such a scandal, and I thought I detected that it was but a 
spirit who spoke, by the paleness of his look and the blood flowing 
from his cravat. I had the nightmare in short, and no wonder. 

1 felt stupefied all this day, but wrote the necessary letters not- 
withstanding. Walter, Jane, and Mrs. Jobson dined with us — but I 
could not gather my spirits. But it is nonsense, and contrary to my 
system, which is of the stoic school, and I think pretty well main- 
tained. It is the only philosophy I know or can practise, but it can- 
not always keep the helm. 

November 30. — I went to the Court, and on my return set in order 
a sheet or two of copy. We came back about two — the new form of 
hearing counsel makes our sederunt a long one. Dined alone, and 
worked in the evening. 



DECEMBER 

December 1.* — The Court again very long in its sitting, and I 
obliged to remain till the last. This is the more troublesome, as in 
winter, with my worn-out eyes, I cannot write so well by candle-light. 
Naboclish ! when I am quite blind, good-night to you, as the one-eyed 
fellow said when a tennis ball knocked out his remaining luminary. 
My short residue of time before dinner was much cut up by calls — 
all old friends, too, and men whom I love ; but this makes the loss 
of time more galling, that one cannot and dare not growl at those on 
whom it has been bestowed. However, I made out two hours bet- 
ter than I expected. I am now once more at my oar, and I will row 
hard. 

December 2. — Returned early from Court, but made some calls by 
the way. Dined alone with Anne, and meant to have worked, but — I 
don't know how — this horrid story stuck by me, so I e'en read Bou- 
tourlin's account of the Moscow campaign to eschew the foul fiend. 

December 3. — Wrote five pages before dinner. Sir Thomas Bris- 
bane and Sir William Arbuthnot called, also John A. Murray. Will- 
iam dined with us, all vivid with his Italian ideas, only Jane besides. 
Made out five pages, I think, or nearly. 

December 4. — Much colded, which is no usual complaint of mine, 
but worked about five leaves, so I am quite up with my task-work 
and better. But my books from Abbotsford have not arrived. Dined 
with the Royal Society Club — about thirty members present — too 
many for company. After coffee, the Society were like Mungo in 
The Padlock.^ I listened, without understanding a single word, to 
two scientific papers ; one about the tail of a comet, and the other 
about a chucky-stone ; besides hearing Basil Hall describe, and see- 

1 During the winter of 1826-7 Sir Walter snatches in the course of his meals; and to 
sufifered great pain (enough to have disturbed walk, when he could walk at all, to the Par- 
effectually any other man's labours, whether liament House, and back again through the 
olficial or literary) from successive attacks of Princes Street Gardens, was his only exercise 
rheumatism, which seems to have been fixed and his only relaxation. Every ailment, ot 
on him by the wet sheets of one of his French whatever sort, ended in aggravating his lame- 
inns; and his Diary contains, besides, various ness; and, perhaps, the severest test his phi- 
indications that his constitution was already losophy encountered was the feeling of bodily 
shaking under the fatigue to which he had helplessness that from week to week crept 
subjected it. Formerly, however great the upon him. The winter, to make bad worse, 
quantity of work he put through his hands, was a very cold and stormy one. The growing 
his evenings were almost all reserved for the sluggishness of his blood showed itself in chil- 
light reading of an elbow-chair, or the enjoy- blains, not only on the feet but the fingers, 
ment of his family and friends. Now he seem- and his handwriting becomes more and more 
ed to grudge every minute that was not spent cramped and confused. — Life^ vol. ix. pp. 58-9. 
at his desk. The little that he read of new 2 gee BickerstafiPs Comic Opera, The Fad- 
hooks, or for mere amusement, was done by lock. 



Dec. 1826.] JOURNAL 209 

ing him exhibit, a new azimuth. I have half a mind to cut the whole 
concern ; and yet the situation is honourable, and, as Bob Acres says, 
one should think of their honour. We took possession of our new 
rooms on the Mound, which are very handsome and gentlemanlike. 

December 5. — Annoyed with the cold and its consequences all 
night, and wish I could shirk the Court this morning. But it must 
not be. Was kept late, and my cold increased. I have had a regu- 
lar attack of this for many years past whenever I return to the seden- 
tary life and heated rooms of Edinburgh, which are so different from 
the open air and constant exercise of the country. Odd enough that 
during cold weather and cold nocturnal journeys the cold never 
touched me, yet I am no sooner settled in comfortable quarters and 
warm well-aired couches, but la voila. I made a shift to finish my 
task, however, and even a leaf more, so we are bang up. We dined 
and supped alone, and I went to bed early. 

December 6. — A bad and disturbed night with fever, headache, 
and some touch of cholera morbus, which greatly disturbed my slum- 
bers. But I fancy Nature was scouring the gun after her own fash- 
ion. I slept little till morning, and then lay abed, contrary to my 
wont, until half-past nine o'clock, when I came down to breakfast. 
Went to Court, and returned time enough to write about five leaves. 
Dined at Skene's, where we met Lord Elgin and Mr. Stewart, a son 
of Sir M. Shaw Stewart, whom I knew and liked, poor man. Talked 
among other things and persons of Sir J. Campbell of Ardkinglas, 
who is now here.^ He is happy in escaping from his notorious title 
of Callander of Craigforth. In my youth he was a black-leg and 
swindler of the first water, and like Pistol did 

" Somewhat lean to cut-purse of quick hand." ' 

He was obliged to give up his estate to his son Colonel Callander, a 
gentleman of honour, and as Dad went to the Continent in the midst 
of the French Revolution, he is understood to have gone through 
many scenes. At one time. Lord Elgin assured us, he seized upon 
the island of Zante, as he pretended, by direct authority from the 
English Government, and reigned there very quietly for some months, 
until, to appease the jealousy of the Turks, Lord Elgin despatched a 
frigate to dethrone the new sovereign. Afterwards he traversed 
India in the dress of a fakir. He is now eighty and upwards. 

I should like to see what age and adventures have done upon him. 
I recollect him a very handsome, plausible man. Of all good breed- 
ing, that of a swindler (of good education, be it understood) is the 
most perfect. 

1 This gentleman published his own Memoirs son's suggestion, and by Lord Keith's author- 

(2 vols. 8vo, Lond. 1832). They read like chap- ity. Sir James died in 1832 at a very great 

ters from the Arabian N'ights. He gives a age. 
somewhat different account of his occupation 

of Zante, which he says was effected at Nel- 3 Henry V. Act v. Sc. 1. 

14 



210 JOURNAL [Dec. 

December 7. — Again a very disturbed night, scarce sleeping an 
hour, yet well when I rose in the morning. I did not do above a leaf 
to-day, because I had much to read. But I am up to one-fourth of 
the volume, of 400 pages, which I began on the first December cur- 
rent; the 31st must and shall see the end of vol. vi. We dined alone. 
I had a book sent me by a very clever woman, in defence of what she 
calls the rights of her sex. Clever, though. I hope she will pub- 
lish it. 

December 8. — Another restless and deplorable Knight — night I 
should say — faith, either spelling will suit. Returned early, but much 
done up with my complaint and want of sleep last night. I wrought 
however, but with two or three long interruptions, my drowsiness 
being irresistible. Went to dine with John Murray, where met his 
brother Henderland, Jeffrey, Harry Cockburn, Rutherfurd, and others 
of that file. Very pleasant — capital good cheer and excellent wine — 
much laugh and fun. 

December 9. — I do not know why it is that when I am with a party 
of my Opposition friends, the day is often merrier than when with 
our own set. Is it because they are cleverer? Jeffrey and Harry 
Cockburn are, to be sure, very extraordinary men, yet it is not owing 
to that entirely. I believe both parties meet with the feeling of some- 
thing like novelty. We have not worn out our jests in daily contact. 
There is also a disposition on such occasions to be courteous, and of 
course to be pleased. Wrought all day, but rather dawdled, being 
abominably drowsy. I fancy it is bile, a visitor I have not had this 
long time. 

December 10. — An uncomfortable and sleepless night; and the 
lime water assigned to cure me seems far less pleasant, and about as 
inefficacious as lime punch would be in the circumstances. I felt 
main stupid the whole forenoon, and though I wrote my task, yet it 
was with great intervals of drowsiness and fatigue which made me, 
as we Scots says, dover away in my arm-chair. Walter and Jane came 
to dinner, also my Coz Colonel Russell, and above and attour' James 
Ballantyne, poor fellow. We had a quiet and social evening, I act- 
ing on prescription. Well, I have seen the day — but no matter. 

December 11. — Slept indifferent well with a feverish halo about 
me, but no great return of my complaint. It paid it off this morn- 
ing, however, but the difference was of such consequence that I made 
an ample day's work, getting over six pages, besides what I may do. 
On this, the 11th December, I shall have more than one-third of vol. 
vi. finished, which was begun on the first of this current month. 
Dined quiet and at home. I must take no more frisks till this fit 
is over. 

" When once life's day draws near the gloaming, 
Then farewell careless social roaming ; 
And farewell cheerful tankards foaming, 

1 For By and attour, i.e. over and above. 



1826.] JOURNAL 211 

And social noise; 
And farewell dear deluding woman, 

The joy of joys !"^ 

Long life to thy fame and peace to thy soul, Rob Burns ! When I 
want to express a sentiment which I feel strongly, I find the phrase 
in Shakespeare — or thee. The blockheads talk of my being like 
Shakespeare — not fit to tie his brogues.^ 

December 12. — Did not go to the Parliament House, but drove 
with Walter to Dalkeith, where we missed the Duke, and found 
Mr. Blakeney. One thing I saw there which pleased me much, 
and that was my own picture, painted twenty years ago by Raeburn 
for Constable, and which was to have been brought to sale among 
the rest of the wreck, hanging quietly up in the dining-room at Dal- 
keith.' I do not care much about these things, yet it would have 
been annoying to have been knocked down to the best bidder even 
in Qf^gj ; and I am obliged to the friendship and delicacy which 
placed the portrait where it now is. Dined at Archie Swinton's, with 
all the cousins of that honest clan, and met Lord Cringletie,* his wife, 
and others. Finished my task this day. 

December 13. — Went to the Court this morning early, and re- 
mained till past three. Then attended a meeting of the Edinburgh 
Academy Directors on account of some discussion about flogging. I 
am an enemy to corporal punishment, but there are many boys who 
will not attend without it. It is an instant and irresistible motive, 
and I love boys' heads too much to spoil them at the expense of their 
opposite extremity. Then, when children feel an emancipation on 
this point, we may justly fear they will loosen the bonds of disci- 
pline altogether. The master, I fear, must be something of a despot 
at the risk of his becoming something like a tyrant. He governs 
subjects whose keen sense of the present is not easily ruled by any 
considerations that are not pressing and immediate. I was indiffer- 
ently well beaten at school ; but I am now quite certain that twice as 
much discipline would have been well bestowed. 

Dined at home with Walter and Jane ; they with Anne went out 
in the evening, I remained, but not I fear to work much. I feel sore- 
ly fagged. I am sadly fagged. Then I cannot get 's fate out 

of my head. I see that kind, social, beneficent face never turned to 
me without respect and complacence, and — I see it in the agonies of 
death. This is childish ; I tell myself so, and I trust the feeling to 
no one else. But here it goes down like the murderer who could 
not cease painting the ideal vision of the man he had murdered, and 

1 Burns' S lines to J. Smith. Time hath not teen, Time may not see, 

2 Delta's lines on Leslie's portrait of Scott ^ill ends his reign, a third like thee, 
may be recorded here :- 3 ^^^ ^^ ^^^^^.^^ 

on Aron'l "ho^mTd' twili^t dim, " J^njes Wolfe Murray succeeded Lord Mead- 

Who dreamed immortal dreams, and took owbank on the Bench as Lord Cringletic, in No- 

From Nature's hand her picture book; Vember, 1816j and died in 1836. 



212 JOURNAL [Dec. 

wlio lie supposed haunted him. A thousand fearful images and dire 
suggestions glance along the mind when it is moody and discontented 
with itself. Command them to stand and show themselves, and you 
presently assert the power of reason over imagination. But if by 
any strange alterations in one's nervous system you lost for a mo- 
ment the talisman which controls these fiends, would they not terrify 
into obedience with their mandates, rather than we would dare lon- 
ger to endure their presence ? 

December 14. — Annoyed with this cursed complaint, though I live 
like a hermit on pulse and water. Bothered, too, with the Court, 
which leaves me little room for proof-sheets, and none for copy. 
They sat to-day till past two, so before I had walked home, and called 
for half an hour on the Chief Commissioner, the work part of the 
day was gone ; and then my lassitude — I say lassitude — not indo- 
lence — is so great that it costs me an hour's nap after I come home 
We dined to-day with R. Dundas of Arniston — Anne and I. There 
was a small cabal about Cheape's election for Professor of Civil Law, 
which it is thought we can carry for him. He deserves support, hav- 
ing been very indifferently used in the affair of the Beacon,^ where cer- 
tain high Tories showed a great desire to leave him to the mercy of 
the enemy ; as Feeble says, " I will never bear a base mind." ^ We 
drank some " victorious Burgundy," contrary to all prescription. 

December 15. — Egad! I think I am rather better for my good 
cheer ! I have passed one quiet night at least, and that is something 
gained. A glass of good wine is a gracious creature, and reconciles 
poor mortality to itself, and that is what few things can do. 

Our election went off very decently ; no discussions or aggravat- 
ing speeches. Sir John Jackass seconded the Whig's nominee. So 
much they will submit to to get a vote. The numbers stood — Cheape,^ 
138; Bell, 132. Majority, 6 — mighty hard run. The Tory interest 
was weak among the old stagers, where I remember it so strong, but 
preferment, country residence, etc., has thinned them. Then it was 
strong in the younger classes. The new Dean, James Moncreiff,* 
presided with strict propriety and impartiality. Walter and Jane 
dined with us. 

1 A Party Newspaper started by the Tories dangered that of Scott.— See Life, vol. vi. pp. 

in Edinburgh at the beginning of 1821. It was 42fi-4:29, and Cockburn's Memorials, p. 312. 

suppressed in the month of August, but during 2 2 Henry IV. Act iii. Sc. 2. 

the interval contrived to give great offence to 3 Douglas Cheape, whose Introductory Lect- 

the Whig leaders by its personality. Lockhart ure was published in 1827. Mr. Cheape died 

says of it that "a more pitiable mass of blunders in 1861. 

and imbecility was never heaped together than * James Moncreiflf, son of the Rev. Sir Henry 

the whole ofthis affair exhibited;' and Scott, Wellwood. The new Dean succeeded Lord Al- 

who was one of its founders, along with the lowayon the Scotch Bench in 1829, and died in 

Lord Advocate and other official persons, wrote 1851. Cockburn writes of him thus: — "During 

to Erskine, "I am terribly malcontent about the twenty-one years he was on the civil and 

the Beacon. I was dragged into the bond criminal benches, he performed all his duties 

against all reasons I could make, and low they admirably. Law-learning and law-reasoning, 

have allowed me no vote regarding standing industry, honesty, and high-minded purity 

or flying. jEh?;-c nous, our friends went into the could do no more for any judge. After forty 

thing like fools, and came out very like cow- years of unbroken friendship, it is a pleasure 

ards."' The wretched libels it contained cost to record my love of the man, and my admira- 

Sir A. Boswell his life, and for a m.oment en- tion of his character. — Journals, vol. ii. p. 364. 



1826.] JOURNAL 213 

December 16. — Another bad night. I remember I used to think 
a slight illness was a luxurious thing. My pillow was then softened 
by the hand of affection, and all the little cares which were put in 
exercise to soothe the languor or pain were more flattering and 
pleasing than the consequences of the illness were disagreeable. It 
was a new sense to be watched and attended, and I used to think that 
the Malade imaginaire gained something by his humour. It is differ- 
ent in the latter stages. The old post-chaise gets more shattered and 
out of order at every turn ; windows will not be pulled up ; doors re- 
fuse to open, or being open will not shut again — which last is rather 
my case. There is some new subject of complaint every moment ; 
your sicknesses come thicker and thicker ; your comforting or sym- 
pathising friends fewer and fewer ; for why should they sorrow for 
the course of nature ? The recollection of youth, health, and uninter- 
rupted powers of activity, neither improved nor enjoyed, is a poor 
strain of comfort. The best is, the long halt will arrive at last, and 
cure all. 

We had a long sitting in the Court. Came home through a cold 
easterly rain without a greatcoat, and was well wet. A goodly med- 
icine for my aching bones. ^ Dined at Mr. Adam Wilson's, and had 
some good singing in the evening. Saw Dr. Stokoe, who attended 
Boney in Saint Helena, a plain, sensible sort of man.^ 

Decemher lY. — This was a day of labour, agreeably varied by a 
pain which rendered it scarce possible to sit upright. My Journal is 
getting a vile chirurgical aspect. 

I begin to be afraid of the odd consequences complaints in the 
'post equitem are said to produce. Walter and Jane dined. Mrs. 
Skene came in the evening. 

Decemher 18. — Almost sick with pain, and it stops everything. I 
shall tire of my Journal if it is to contain nothing but biles and plasters 
and unguents. In my better days I had stories to tell ; but death 
has closed the long dark avenue upon loves and friendships ; and I 
can only look at them as through the grated door of a long burial- 
place filled with monuments of those wh^ were once dear to me, with 
no insincere wish that it may open for me at no distant period, pro- 
vided such be the will of God. My pains were those of the heart, 
and had something flattering in their character ; if in the head, it was 
from the blow of a bludgeon gallantly received and well paid back. 

I went to the meeting of the Commissioners ;^ there was none to- 
day. The carriage had set me down ; so I walked from the college 
in one of the sourest and most unsocial days which I ever felt. Why 
should I have liked this ? I do not know ; it is my dogged humour 
to yield little to external circumstances. Sent an excuse to the Royal 
Society, however. 

1 Troiltis and Cressida, Act v. Sc. 2. surgeon in the fleet at Trafalgar, and was after- 

wards appointed to St. Helena. 

2 Dr. Stokoe, who had settled at Durham, 3 The University Commission. — See ante, p. 
died suddenly at York in 1852. He had been 168. 



214 JOURNAL [Dec. 

December 1 9. — Went to Court. No, I lie ; I had business there. 
Wrote a task ; no more ; could not. Went out to Dalkeith, and dined 
with the Duke. It delights me to hear this hopeful young nobleman 
talk with sense and firmness about his plans for improving his estate, 
and employing the poor. If God and the world spare him, he will be 
far known as a true Scots lord.^ 

December 20. — Being a Teind day, I had a little repose. We 
dined at Hector Macdonald's with William Clerk and some young- 
sters. Highland hospitality as usual. I got some work done 
to-day. 

December 21. — In the house till two o'clock nearly. Came home, 
corrected proof-sheets, etc., mechanically. All well, would the ma- 
chine but keep in order, but "The spinning wheel is auld and stiff." 

I think I shall not live to the usual verge of human existence. I 
shall never see the threescore and ten, and shall be summed up at a 
discount. No help for it, and no matter either. 

December 22.— Voov old Honour and Glory dead — once Lord 
Moira, more lately Lord Hastings. He was a man of very considera- 
ble talents, but had an overmastering degree of vanity of the grossest 
kind. It followed of course that he w^as gullible. In fact the pro- 
pensity was like a ring in his nose into which any rogue might put a 
string. He had a high reputation for war, but it was after the petti- 
fogging hostilities in America where he had done some clever things. 
He died, having the credit, or rather having had the credit, to leave 
more debt than any man since Caesar's time. £1,200,000 is said to 
be the least. There was a time that I knew him well, and regretted 
the foibles which mingled with his character, so as to make his noble 
qualities sometimes questionable, sometimes ridiculous. He was al- 
ways kind to me. Poor Plantagenet ! Young Percival went out to 
dine at Dalkeith with me. 

December 24. — To add to my other grievances I have this day a 
proper fit of rheumatism in my best knee. I pushed to Abbotsford, 
however, after the Court rose, though compelled to howl for pain as 
they helped me out of the carriage. 

[Abbotsford,^ December 25. — By dint of abstinence and opodeldoc 
I passed a better night than I could have hoped for ; but took up my 
lodging in the chapel room, as it is called, for going upstairs was im- 
possible. 

To-day I have been a mere wretch. I lay in bed till past eleven, 
thinking to get rid of the rheumatism ; then I walked as far as Turn- 
again with much pain, and since that time I have just roasted my- 
self like a potato by the fireside in my study, slumbering away my 
precious time, and unable to keep my eyes open or my mind intent 
on anything, if I would have given my life for it. I seemed to sleep 

1 .The long life of Walter, fifth Duke of Buc- carried with him to the grave in 1884 the love 
cleuch, more than falfilled the hopes and prog- and respect of his countrymen. 
nostics of his friend. A '-true Scots lord," he 



1826.] JOURNAL 215 

tolerably, too, last night, but I suppose Nature had not her dues prop- 
erly paid ; neither has she for some time. 

I saw the filling up of the quarry on the terrace walk, and was 
pleased. Anne and I dined at Mertoun, as has been my old wont 
and use as Christmas day comes about. We were late in setting out, 
and I have rarely seen so dark a night. The mist rolled like volumes 
of smoke on the road before us. 

December 26. — Returned to Abbotsford this morning. I heard it 
reported that Lord B. is very ill. If that be true it affords ground 

for hope that Sir John is not immortal. Both great bores. But 

the Earl has something of wild cleverness, far exceeding the ponder- 
ous stupidity of the Cavaliero Jackasso. 

December 27. — Still weak with this wasting illness, but it is clear- 
ly going off. Time it should, quoth Sancho. I began my work again, 
which had slumbered betwixt pain and weakness. In fact I could 
not write or compose at all. 

December 28. — Stuck to my work. Mr. Scrope came to dinner, 
and remained next day. We were expecting young Percival and his 
wife, once my favourite and beautiful Nancy M'Leod, and still a very 
fine woman ; but they came not. 

In bounced G. T[homson], alarmed by an anonymous letter, which 
acquainted him that thirty tents full of Catholics were coming to 
celebrate high mass in the Abbey church ; and to consult me on such 
a precious document he came prancing about seven at night. I hope 
to get him a kirk before he makes any extraordinary explosion of 
simplicity. - 

December 29. — Mr. and Mrs. Percival came to-day. He is son of 
the late lamented statesman, equally distinguished by talents and in- 
tegrity. The son is a clever young man, and has read a good deal ; 
pleasant, too, in society ; but tampers with phrenology, which is un- 
worthy of his father's son. There is a certain kind of cleverish men, 
either half educated or cock-brained by nature, who are attached to 
that same turnipology. I am sorry this gentleman should take such 
whims — sorry even for his name's sake. Walter and Jane arrived ; 
so our Christmas party thickens. Sir Adam and Colonel Ferguson 
dined. 

December 30. — Wrote and wrought hard, then went out a drive 
with Mr. and Mrs. Percival ; and went round by the lake. If my days 
of good fortune should ever return I will lay out some pretty rides at 
Abbotsford. 

Last day of an eventful year ; much evil and some good ; but es- 
pecially the courage to endure what Fortune sends without becoming 
a pipe for her fingers.^ 

It is not the last day of the year, but to-morrow being Sunday we 
hold our festival of neighbours to-day instead. The Fergusons came 

1 Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 2.— j. o. l. 



216 JOURNAL [Dec. 1826. 

en masse, and we had all tlie usual appliances of mirth and good 
cheer. Yet our party, like the chariot-wheels of Pharaoh in the Red 
Sea, dragged heavily. 

Some of the party grow old and infirm ; others thought of the 
absence of the hostess, whose reception of her guests was always kind. 
We did as well as we could, however. 

*' It's useless to murmur and pout — 
There's no good in making ado; 
'Tis well the old year is out, 
And time to begin a new." 

December 31. — It must be allowed that the regular recurrence of 
annual festivals among the same individuals has, as life advances, 
something in it that is melancholy. We meet on such occasions like 
the survivors of some perilous expedition, wounded and weakened 
ourselves, and looking through the diminished ranks of those who re- 
main, while we think of those who are no more. Or they are like 
the feasts of the Caribs, in which they held that the pale and speech- 
less phantoms of the deceased appeared and mingled with the living. 
Yet where shall we fly from vain repining ? Or why should we give 
up the comfort of seeing our friends, because they can no longer be 
to us, or we to them, what we once were to each other ? 



1827.— JANUARY 

January 1. — God make this a happy year to the King and coun- 
try, and to all honest men ! 

I went with all our family to-day to dine as usual at the kind 
house of Huntly Burn ; but the same cloud which hung over us on 
Saturday still had its influence. The effect of grief upon [those] who, 
like myself and Sir A. R, are highly susceptible of humour, has, I 
think, been finely touched by Wordsworth in the character of the 
merry village teacher Matthew, whom Jeffrey profanely calls the hys- 
terical schoolmaster.* But, with my friend Jeffrey's pardon, I think 
he loves to see imagination best when it is bitted and managed and 
ridden upon the grand pas. He does not make allowance for starts 
and sallies and bounds when Pegasus is beautiful to behold, though 
sometimes perilous to his rider. Not that I think the amiable bard 
of Rydal shows judgment in choosing such subjects as the popular 
mind cannot sympathise in. It is unwise and unjust to himself. I 
do not compare myself, in point of imagination, with Wordsworth — 
far from it ; for [his] is naturally exquisite, and highly cultivated by 
constant exercise. But I can see as many castles in the clouds as 
any man, as many genii in the curling smoke of a steam engine, as 
perfect a Persepolis in the embers of a sea-coal fire. My life has been 
spent in such day-dreams. But I cry no roast-meat. There are times 
a man should remember what Rousseau used to say : Tais-toi, Jean- 
Jacques, car on ne fentend pas /^ 

January 2. — I had resolved to mark down no more griefs and 
groans, but I must needs briefly state that I am nailed to my chair 
like the unhappy Theseus. The rheumatism, exasperated by my sortie 
of yesterday, has seized on my only serviceable knee — and I am, by 
Proserpine, motionless as an anvil. Leeches and embrocations are all 
I have for it. JDiable ! there was a twinge. The Russells and Fergusons 
here ; but I was fairly driven off the pit after dinner, and compelled 
to retreat to my own bed, there to howl till morning like a dog in his 
solitary cabin. 

January 3. — Mending slowly. Two things are comfortable — \st, 
I lose no good weather out of doors, for the ground is covered with 
snow ; 2c?, That, by exerting a little stoicism, I can make my illness 
promote the advance of Nap. As I can scarcely stand, however, I 



1 "A half-crazy sentimental person."— JSdin. ^ Mme. de Boufflers's saying to the author of 

Rev. No. xxiii. p. 135.— j. G. L. Julie. 



218 JOURNAL [Jan. 

am terribly awkward at consulting books, maps, etc. The work grows 
under my hand, however ; vol. vi. [Napoleon] will be finished this 
week, I believe. Russells being still with us, I was able by dint of 
handing and chairing to get to the dining-room and the drawing-room 
in the evening. 

Talking of Wordsworth, he told Anne and me a story, the object 
of which was to show that Crabbe had not imagination. He, Sir 
George Beaumont, and Wordsworth were sitting together in Murray 
the bookseller's back-room. Sir George, after sealing a letter, blew 
out the candle, which had enabled him to do so, and, exchanging a 
look with Wordsworth, began to admire in silence the undulating 
thread of smoke which slowly arose from the expiring wick, when 
Crabbe put on the extinguisher. Anne laughed at the instance, and 
inquired if the taper was wax, and being answered in the negative, 
seemed to think that there was no call on Mr. Crabbe to sacrifice his 
sense of smell to their admiration of beautiful and evanescent forms. 
In two other men I should have said "this is afiectations,"^ with Sir 
Hugh Evans ; but Sir George is the man in the world most void of 
affectation ; and then he is an exquisite painter, and no doubt saw 
where the incident would have succeeded in painting. The error is 
not in you yourself receiving deep impressions from slight hints, but 
in supposing that precisely the same sort of impression must arise in 
the mind of men otherwise of kindred feeling, or that the common- 
place folks of the world can derive such inductions at any time or 
under any circumst-ances. 

January 4. — My enemy gained some strength during the watches 
of the night, but has again succumbed under scalding fomentations of 
camomile flowers. I still keep my state, for my knee, though it has 
ceased to pain me, is very feeble. We began to fill the ice-house to- 
day. Dine alone — enfamille^ that is, Jane, Anne, Walter, and I. Why, 
this makes up for aiches, as poor John Kemble used to call them. 
After tea I broke off work, and read my young folks the farce of the 
Critic, and " merry folks were we." 

January 5. — I waked, or alced if you please, for five or six hours 
I think, then fevered a little. I am better though, God be thanked, 
and can now shuffle about and help myself to what I want without 
ringing every quarter of an hour. It is a fine clear sunny day ; I 
should like to go out, but flannel and poultices cry nay. So I drudge 
away with the assisting of Pelet, who has a real French head, believ- 
ing all he desires should be true, and affirming all he wishes should 
be believed. Skenes (Mr. and Mrs., with Miss Jardine) arrived about 
six o'clock. Skene very rheumatic, as well as I am. 

January 6. — Worked till dusk, but not with much effect ; my head 
and mind not clear somehow. W. Laidlaw at dinner. In the evening 
read Foote's farce of the Commissary, said to have been levelled at 

» Merry Wives of Windsor, Act i. Sc. 1.— j. Q. l. 



182 7. J JOURNAL 219 

Sir Lawrence Dundas ; but Sir Lawrence was a man of family. Wal- 
ter and Jane dined at Mertoun. 

January 7. — Wrought till twelve, then sallied and walked with 
Skene for two miles ; home and corrected proofs, and to a large 
amount. Mr. Scrope and George Thomson dined. 

January 8. — Slept well last night in consequence I think of my 
walk, which I will, God willing, repeat to-day. I wrote some letters 
too long delayed, and sent oS my packets to J. B. Letter from C. 
Sharpe very pressing. I should employ my interest at Windsor to 
oppose the alterations on the town of Edinburgh. '' One word from 
you, and all that." I don't think I shall speak that word though. I 
hate the alterations, that is certain ; but then ne accesseris in consilium 
nisi vocatus, — what is the use of my volunteering an opinion ? Again, 
the value of many people's property may depend on this plan going 
forward. Have I a right from mere views of amenity to interfere with 
those serious interests ? I something doubt it. Then I have always 
said that I never meddle in such work, and ought I sotto voce now to 
begin it ? By my faith I won't ; there are enough to state the case 
besides me.' 

The young Duke of B. came in to bid us good-by, as he is going 
off to England. God bless him ! He is a hawk of a good nest. Af- 
terwards I walked to the Welsh pool, Skene declining to go, for I 

" not over stout of limb, 

Seem stronger of the two." 

January 9. — This morning received the long-expected news of the 
Duke of York's death.^ I am sorry both on public and private ac- 
counts. His R.H. was, while he occupied the situation of next in the 
royal succession, a Breakioater behind the throne. I fear his brother 
of Clarence's opinions may be different, and that he will hoist a stand- 
ard under which will rendezvous men of desperate hopes and evil de- 
signs. I am sorry, too, on my own account. The Duke of York was 
uniformly kind to me, and though I never tasked his friendship deep- 
ly, yet I find a powerful friend is gone. His virtues were honour, 
good sense, integrity ; and by exertion of these qualities he raised 
the British army from a very low ebb to be the pride and dread of 
Europe. His errors were those of a sanguine and social temper ; he 
could not resist the temptation of deep play, which was fatally allied 
with a disposition to the bottle. This last is incident to his complaint, 

1 Mr. Sharpe was doing what he could by Scotland, I mean Sir W. S." This was not the 

voice and pen to prevent the destruction of only appeal made to Scott to interpose, and 

many historic buildings in Edinburgh, which that he had done so at least in one case effect- 

the craze for "improvements" caused at this ually may be seen by referring to Sharpe's 

time. St. Giles' Church was unfortunately left Letters, vol. ii. pp. 380, 388, 389. 
to its fate. Witness its external condition at 

the present day ! 2 Scott sent a biographical notice of the Duke 

The immediate cause of Mr. Sharpe's letter of York to the Weekly Journal on this day. It 

was a hint to him from the Court, "that one is now included in the Misc. Prose Works, vol. 

person is all-powerful in everything regarding iv. pp. 400-416. 



220 JOURNAL [Jan. 

whicli vinous influence sootlies for the time, while it insidiously in- 
creases it in the end. 

Here blows a gale of wind. I was to go to Galashiels to settle 
some foolish lawsuit, and afterwards to have been with Mr. Kerr of 
Kippilaw to treat about a march-dike. I shall content myself with the 
first duty, for this day does not suit Bowden-moor. 

Went over to Galashiels like the devil in a gale of wind, and found 
a writer contesting with half-a-dozen unwashed artificers the posses- 
sion of a piece of ground the size and shape of a three-cornered pock- 
et-handkerchief. Tried to " gar them gree," and if I succeed, I shall 
think I deserve something better than the touch of rheumatism^ which 
is like to be my only reward. 

Scotts of Harden and John Pringle of Clifton dined, and we got 
on very well. 

January 10. — Enter rheumatism, and takes me by the knee. So 
much for playing the peacemaker in a shower of rain. Nothing for 
it but patience, cataplasm of camomile, and labour in my own room 
the whole day till dinner-time — then company and reading in the 
evening. 

January 11. — Ditto repeated. I should have thought I would 
have made more of these solitary days than I find I can do. A morn- 
ing, or two or three hours before dinner, have often done more effi- 
cient work than six or seven of these hours of languor, I cannot say 
of illness, can produce. A bow that is slackly strung will never send 
an arrow very far. Heavy snow. We are engaged at Mr. Scrope's, 
but I think I shall not be able to go. I remained at home according- 
ly, and, having nothing else to do, worked hard and effectively. I 
believe my sluggishness was partly owing to the gnawing rheumatic 
pain in my knee, for after all I am of opinion pain is an evil, let Stoics 
say what they will. Thank God, it is an evil which is mending with 
me. 

January 12. — All this day occupied with camomile poultices and 
pen and ink. It is now four o'clock, and I have written yesterday 
and to-day ten of my pages — that is, one-tenth of one of these large 
volumes — moreover, I have corrected three proof-sheets. I wish it 
may not prove fool's haste, yet I take as much pains too as is in my 
nature. 

January 13.— The Fergusons, with my neighbours Mr. Scrope and 
Mr. Bainbridge and young Hume, eat a haunch of venison from Drum- 
mond Castle, and seemed happy. We had music and a little dancing, 
and enjoyed in others the buoyancy of spirit that we no longer pos- 
sess ourselves. Yet I do not think the young people of this age so 
gay as we were. There is a turn for persiflage, a fear of ridicule 
among them, which stifles the honest emotions of gaiety and light- 
ness of spirit ; and people, when they give in the least to the expan- 
sion of their natural feelings, are always kept under by the fear of 
becoming ludicrous. To restrain your feelings and check your en- 



1827.] JOURNAL 221 

thusiasm in the cause even of pleasure is now a rule among people 
of fashion, as much as it used to be among philosophers. 

January 14. — Well — my holidays are out — and I may count my 
gains and losses as honest Robinson Crusoe used to balance his ac- 
counts of good and evil. 

I have not been able, during three weeks, to stir above once or 
twice from the house. But then I have executed a great deal of 
work, which would be otherwise unfinished. 

Again I have sustained long and sleepless nights and much pain. 
True ; but no one is the worse of the thoughts which arise in the 
watches of the night ; and for pain, the complaint which brought on 
this rheumatism was not so painful perhaps, but was infinitely more 
disagreeable and depressing. 

Something there has been of dulness in our little reunions of soci- 
ety which did not use to cloud them. But I have seen all my own 
old and kind friends, with my dear children (Charles alone excepted) ; 
and if we did not rejoice with perfect joy, it was overshadowed from 
the same sense of regret. 

Again, this new disorder seems a presage of the advance of age 
with its infirmities. But age is but the cypress avenue which termi- 
nates in the tomb, where the weary are at rest. 

I have been putting my things to rights to go off to-morrow. 
Though I always wonder why it should be so, I feel a dislike to order 
and to task-work of all kinds — a predominating foible in my disposi- 
tion. I do not mean that it influences me in "morals ; for even in youth 
I had a disgust at gross irregularities of any kind, and such as I ran 
into were more from compliance with others and a sort of false 
shame, than any pleasure I sought or found in dissipation. But 
what I mean is a detestation of precise order in petty matters — in 
reading or answering letters, in keeping my papers arranged and in 
ojder, and so on. Weber, and then Gordon, used to keep my things 
in some order — now they are verging to utter confusion. And then 
I have let my cash run ahead since I came from the Continent — I 
must slump the matter as I can. 

\Shand\Joick Place^ January 15. — Off we came, and despite of 
rheumatism I got through the journey comfortably. Greeted on my 
arrival by a number of small accounts whistling like grape-shot ; they 
are of no great avail, and incurred, I see, chiefly during the time of 
illness. But I believe it will take me some hard work till I pay them, 
and how to get the time to work ? It will be hard purchased if, as 
I think not unlikely, this bitch of a rheumatism should once more pin 
me to my chair. Coming through Galashiels, we met the Laird of 
Torwoodlee, who, on hearing how long I had been confined, asked 
how I bore it, observing that he had once in his life (Torwoodlee 
must be between sixty and seventy) been confined for five days to the 
house, and was like to hang himself. I regret God's free air as much 
as any man, but I could amuse myself were it in the Bastile. 



222 JOURNAL [Jan 

January 16. — Went to Court, and returned through a curious at- 
mosphere, half mist, half rain, famous for rheumatic joints. Yet I 
felt no increase of my plaguej malady, but, on the contrary, am rather 
better. I had need, otherwise a pair of crutches for life were my 
prettiest help. 

Walter dined with us to-day, Jane remaining with her mother. 
The good affectionate creatures leave us to-morrow. God send them 
a quick passage through the Irish Channel ! They go to Gort, where 
Walter's troop is lying — a long journey for winter days. 

January 17. — Another proper day of mist, sleet, and rain, through 
which I navigated homeward. I imagine the distance to be a mile 
and a half. It is a good thing to secure as much exercise. 

I observed in the papers my old friend Gifford's funeral. He was 
a man of rare attainments and many excellent qualities. The trans- 
lation of Juvenal is one of the best versions ever made of a classical 
author, and his satire of the Baviad and Maeviad squabashed at one 
blow a set of coxcombs who might have humbugged the world long 
enough. As a commentator he was capital, could he but have sup- 
pressed his .rancour against those who had preceded him in the task, 
but a misconstruction or misinterpretation, nay, the misplacing of a 
comma, was in Gifford's eyes a crime worthy of the most severe an- 
imadversion. The same fault of extreme severity went through 
his critical labours, and in general he flagellated with so little pity, 
that people lost their sense of the criminal's guilt in dislike of the 
savage pleasure which the executioner seemed to take in inflicting the 
punishment. 

This lack of temper probably arose from indifferent health, for he 
was very valetudinary, and realised two verses, wherein he says fort- 
une assigned him — 

" One eye not over good, 

Two sides that to their cost have stood 

A ten years' hectic cough, 
Aches, stitches, all the various ills 
That swell the dev'lish doctors bills, 
And sweep poor mortals off." 

But he might also justly claim, as his gift, the moral qualities ex- 
pressed in the next fine stanza — 

" A soul 

That spurns the crowd's malign control, 

A firm contempt of wrong: 
Spirits above afflictions' power, 
And skill to soothe the lingering hour 

With no inglorious song." ^ 

January 18. — To go on with my subject — Gifford was a little man, 

1 Gifford's Maviad, 12ino, Lond. 1797 ; Ode to Rev. John Ireland, slightly altered. 



1827.] JOURNAL 223 

dumpled up together, and so ill-made as to seem almost deformed, 
but with a singular expression of talent in his countenance. Though 
so little of an athlete, he nevertheless beat off Dr. Wolcot, when that 
celebrated person, the most unsparing calumniator of his time, chose 
to be offended with Gifford for satirising him in his turn. Peter Pin- 
dar made a most vehement attack, but Gifford had the best of the 
affray, and remained, I think, in triumphant possession of the field of 
action, and of the assailant's cane. Gifford had one singular custom. 
He used always to have a duenna of a housekeeper to sit in his study 
with him while he wrote. This female companion died when I was 
in London, and his distress was extreme. I afterwards heard he got 
her place supplied. I believe there was no scandal in all this.^ 

This is another vile day of darkness and rain, with a heavy yel- 
low mist that might become Charing Cross — one of the benefits of 
our extended city ; for that in our atmosphere was unknown till the 
extent of the buildings below Queen Street. M'Culloch of Ardwell 
called. 

Wrought chiefly on a critique of Mrs. Charlotte Smith's novels,'* 
and proofs. 

January 19. — Uncle Adam,^ vide Inheritance^ who retired last 
year from an official situation at the age of eighty-four, although sub- 
ject to fits of giddiness, and although carefully watched by his ac- 
complished daughter, is still in the habit of walking by himself if he 
can by possibility make an escape. The other day, in one of these 
excursions, he fell against a lamp-post, cut himself much, bled a good 
deal, and was carried home by two gentlemen. What said old Rug- 
ged-and-Tough ? Why, that his fall against the post was the luckiest 
thing could have befallen him, for the bleeding was exactly the rem- 
edy for his disorder. 

" Lo ! stout hearts of men !" 

Called on said " uncle," also on David Hume, Lord Chief-Com- 
missioner, Will Clerk, Mrs. Jobson, and others. My knee made no 
allowance for my politeness, but has begun to swell again, and to burn 
like a scorpion's bite. 

January 20. — Scarce slept all night ; scarce able to stand or move 
this morning ; almost an absolute fixture. 

"A sleepless knight, 
A weary knight, 

God be the guide."* 

1 William Gifford, editor of tlie Anti- Jacobin And there't something whiek even distaste must re*p*et 

in 1797, and the Quarterly from 1809 to 1824. ^^ "'^ self-laugM example that conquered neglect^' 

His political opponent, Leigh Hunt, wrote of ~^""* "-^ "* ^°''''- 

him in 1812 :— 2 gee Miscell. Prose Works, vol. iv. pp. 120-70. 

"William Gifford'i a name, I think, pretty well known. ^ James Ferrier, Esq.— See p. 103, February 

oh! now I remember," eaid Phoebus; — "ah true — 3, 1826. 

My thanks to that name are undoubtedly due. 4 gee Midsummer NiahVs Dream; a parody 

The rod that got rid of the Cruscas and Lauras, .,, tt„i„_q'c 

That plague oT the butterflies saved me the horrors, "" iieieud b 

The Juvenal too stops a gap in my shelf, " O weary night 

At least in what Dryden na» not done himself, O long and tedious night." 



224 JOURNAL [Jan. 

This is at the Court a blank day, being that of the poor Duke of 
York's funeral. I can sit at home, luckily, and fag hard. 

And so I have, pretty well ; six leaves written, and four or five 
proof-sheets corrected. Cadell came to breakfast, and proposes an 
eighth volume for Napoleon. I told him he might write to Long- 
man for their opinion. Seven is an awkward number, and will ex- 
tremely cramp the work. Eight, too, would go into six octavos, 
should it ever be called for in that shape. But it shall be as they 
list to have it. 

January 21. — A long day of some pain relieved by labour. Dr. 
Ross came in and recommended some stuff, which did little good. I 
would like ill to lose the use of my precious limbs. Meanwhile, Pa- 
tience, cousin, and shuffle the cards. 

Missie dined with us to-day — an honest Scotch lass, ladylike and 
frank. I finished about six leaves, doing indeed little else. 

January 22. — Work, varied with camomile ; we get on, though. 
A visit from Basil Hall, with Mr. Audubon the ornithologist, who has 
followed that pursuit by many a long wandering in the American 
forests. He is an American by naturalisation, a Frenchman by 
birth ;' but less of a Frenchman than I have ever seen — no dash, or 
glimmer, or shine about him, but great simplicity of manners and be- 
haviour ; slight in person, and plainly dressed ; wears long hair, which 
time has not yet tinged ; his countenance acute, handsome, and in- 
teresting, but still simplicity is the predominant characteristic. I 
wish 1 had gone to see his drawings ; but I had heard so much about 
them that I resolved not to see them — " a crazy way of mine, your 
honour." — Five more, leaves finished. 

January 23. — I have got a piece of armour, a knee-cap of chamois 
leather, which I think does my unlucky rheumatism some good. I 
begin, too, to sleep at night, which is a great comfort. Spent this 
day completely in labour ; only betwixt dinner and tea, while hus- 
banding a tumbler of whisky and water, I read the new novel, Eliza- 
beth de Bruce^ — part of it, that is. 

January 24. — Visit from Mr. Audubon, who brings some of his 
birds. The drawings are of the first order — the attitudes of the 
birds of the most animated character, and the situations appropriate ; 
one of a snake attacking a bird's nest, while the birds (the parents) 
peck at the reptile's eyes — they usually, in the long-run, destroy him, 

1 John James Audubon was born in Lousiana the Scotsman. On a visit to Altrive Mrs. John- 

in the United States in 1780, but educated in stone and her party were kindly received by 

France. — Buchanan's Life of Audubon, p. 4. the Ettrick Shepherd, who did the honours of 

the district, and among other places took them 

a Written by Mrs. J. Johnstone, in after years to a Fairy Well, from which he drew a glass of 

editor of Tait's Magazine, well known also as sparkling water. Handing it to the lady the 

the author of Meg Dods' Cookery jBoofc, which bard of Kilmeny said, "Hae, Mrs. Johnstone, 

Sir Walter refers to in St. Ronan's Well. Her ony merrit wumman wha drinks a tumbler of 

sense of humour and power of delineating char- this will hae twuns in a twalmont'!'' "In that 

acter are shown in her stories and sketches in case, Mr. Hogg," replied the lady, "I shall only 

Tait, and a good example of her ready wit has take half a tumbler." 

been told by Mr. Alexander Russell, editor of Mrs. Johnstone died in Edinburgh in 1857. 



1827.] JOURNAL 225 

says the naturalist. The feathers of these gay little sylphs, most of 
them from the Southern States, are most brilliant, and are represented 
with what, were it [not] connected with so much spirit in the attitude, 
I would call a laborious degree of execution. This extreme correct- 
ness is of the utmost consequence to the naturalist, [but] as I think 
(having no knowledge of virtu), rather gives a stiffness to the draw- 
ings. This sojourner in the desert had been in the woods for months 
together. He preferred associating with the Indians to the company 
of the Back Settlers ; very justly, I daresay, for a civilised man of 
the lower order — that is, the dregs of civilisation — when thrust back 
on the savage state becomes worse than a savage. They are Words- 
worth's adventurer, 

" Deliberate and undeceived 
The wild men's vices who received, 
And gave them back his own."* 

The Indians, he says, are dying fast ; they seem to pine and die 
whenever the white population approaches them. The Shawanese, 
who amounted, Mr. Audubon says, to some thousands within his 
memory, are almost extinct, and so are various other tribes. Mr. 
Audubon could never hear any tradition about the mammoth, though 
he made anxious inquiries. He gives no countenance to the idea 
that the Red Indians were ever a more civilised people than at this 
day, or that a more civilised people had preceded them in North 
America. He refers the bricks, etc., occasionally found, and appealed 
to in support of this opinion, to the earlier settlers, — or, where kettles 
and other utensils may have been found, to the early trade between 
the Indians and the Spaniards. 

John RusselP and Leonard Horner' came to consult me about the 
propriety and possibility of retaining the northern pronunciation of 
the Latin in the new Edinburgh Academy.* I will think of it until 
to-morrow, being no great judge. We had our solitary dinner ; in- 
deed, it is only remarkable nowadays when we have a guest. 

January 25. — Thought during the watches of the night and a 
part of the morning about the question of Latin pronunciation, and 
came to the following conclusions. That the mode of pronunciation 
approved by Buchanan and by Milton, and practised .by all nations, 
excepting the English, assimilated in sound, too, to the Spanish, 
Italian, and other languages derived from the Latin, is certainly the 

1 Slightly varied from the lines in Ruth, — 3 Leonard Horner, editor in after years of 

Poems, vol. ii. p. 112, Edinburgh, 1836. the Memoirs of his brother Francis (2 vols. 8vo, 

3 John Russell (a grandson of Principal Rob- London, 1843). He died in 1864. 
ertson), long Chief Clerk in the Jury Court, 

and Treasurer to the Royal Society and the * See Report by the Directors to the Proprie- 

Edinburgh Academy. He took a keen interest tors of the Edinburgh Academy on the Pronun- 

in education, and published in October, 1855, cia^iore o/Xa<m, Edin. 1827. Sir Walter always 

some curious Statistics of a Class [Christison's] took a warm interest in the school. His speech 

in the High School [of Edinburgh] from 1787 to as Chairman at the opening ceremony, on the 

1791, of which he had been a member. Mr. 1st October, 1824, is quoted in the Life, vol. vii. 

Russell died on January 30, 1862. p. 268. 

15 



226 JOURNAL [Jan. 

best, and is lilsewise useful as facilitating the acquisition of sounds 
which the Englishman attemps in vain. Accordingly I wish the 
cockneyfied pedant who first disturbed it by reading Emo for Amo, 
and quy for qui, had choked in the attempt. But the question is, 
whether a youth who has been taught in a manner different from 
that used all over England will be heard, if he presumes to use his 
Latin at the bar or the senate ; and if he is to be unintelligible or 
ludicrous, the question [arises] whether his education is not imper- 
fect under one important view. I am very unwilling to sacrifice our 
sumpsimus to their old mumpsimus — still more to humble ourselves 
before the Saxons while we can keep an inch of the Scottish flag fly- 
ing. But this is a question which must be decided not on partialities 
or prejudices. 

I got early from the Court to-day, and settled myself to work 
hard. 

January 26. — My rheumatism is almost gone. I can walk with- 
out Major Weir, which is the name Anne gives my cane, because it 
is so often out of the way that it is suspected, like the staff of that 
famous wizard,^ to be capable of locomotion. Went to Court, and 
tarried till three o'clock, after which transacted business with Mr. 
Gibson and Dr. Inglis as one of Miss Hume's trustees. Then was in- 
troduced to young Mr. Rennie,^ or he to me, by [Sir] James Hall, a 
genteel-looking young man, and speaks well. He was called into 
public notice by having, many years before, made a draught of a plan 
of his father's for London Bridge. It was sought for when the build- 
ing was really about to take place, and the assistance which young 
Mr. Rennie gave to render it useful raised his character so high, that 
his brother and he are now in first-rate practice as civil engineers. 

January 27. — Read Elizabeth de Bruce ; it is very clever, but does 
not shoAv much originality. The characters, though very entertain- 
ing, are in the manner of other authors, and the finished and filled-up 
portraits of which the sketches are to be found elsewhere. One is 
too apt to feel on such occasions the pettish resentment that you 
might entertain against one who had poached on your manor. But 
the case is quite different, and a claim set up on having been the first 
who betook himself to the illustration of some particular class of 
character, or department of life, is no more a right of monopoly than 
that asserted by the old buccaneers by setting up a wooden cross, and 
killing an Indian or two on some new discovered island. If they can 
make anything of their first discovery, the better luck theirs ; if not, 
let others come, penetrate further into the country, write descriptions, 
make drawings or settlements at their pleasure. 

We were kept in Parliament House till three. Called to return 
thanks to Mr. Menzies of Pitfoddels, who lent some pamphlets about 



1 Burnt at Edinburgh in 1670.— See Arnot's ' Afterwards Sir John Rennie, knighted on 
CHm. Trials. 4to, Edin. 1785. tlie completion of the Bridge. 



1827.] JOURNAL 227 

the unhappy Duke d'Enghien. Read in the eYemngBoutourlin and 
Sepur, to prepare for my Russian campaign. 

January 28. — Continued my reading with the commentary of the 
D. of W.^ If his broad shoulders cannot carry me through, the devil 
must be in the dice. Longman and Company agree to the eight vol- 
umes. It will make the value of the book more than £12,000. 
Wrought indifferent hard. 

January 29. — Mr. Gibson breakfasted with Dr. Marshman,^ the 
head of the missionaries at Serampore, a great Oriental scholar. He 
is a thin, dark-featured, middle-sized man, about fifty or upwards, his 
eye acute, his hair just beginning to have a touch of the grey. He 
spoke well and sensibly, and seemed liberal in his ideas. He was 
clearly of opinion that general information must go hand in hand, or 
even ought to precede religious instruction. Thinks the influence of 
European manners is gradually making changes in India. The na- 
tives, so far as their religion will allow them, are become fond of Eu- 
ropeans, and invite them to their great festivals. He has a conceit 
that the Afghans are the remains of the Ten Tribes. I cannot find 
he has a better reason than their own tradition, which calls them 
Ben-Israel, and says they are not Ben-Judah. They have Jewish rites 
and ceremonies, but so have all Mahometans ; neither could I under- 
stand that their language has anything peculiar. The worship of 
Bhoodah he conceives to have [been] an original, or rather the orig- 
inal, of Hindu religion, until the Brahmins introduced the doctrines 
respecting caste and other peculiarities. But it would require strong 
proof to show that the superstition of caste could be introduced into 
a country which had been long peopled, and w^here society had long 
existed without such restriction. It is more like to be adopted in the 
early history of a tribe, when there are but few individuals, the de- 
scent of whom is accurately preserved. How could the castes be dis- 
tinguished or told off in a populous nation ? Dr. Marshman was an 
old friend of poor John Leyden. 

January 30. — Blank day at Court, being the Martyrdom. AVrought 
hard at Bon. all day, though I had settled otherwise. I ought to have 
been at an article for John Lockhart, and one for poor Gillies ; but 
there is something irresistible in contradiction, even when it consists 
in doing a thing equally laborious, but not the thing you are especial- 
ly called upon to do.- It is a kind of cheating the devil, which a self- 
willed monster like me is particularly addicted to. Not to make my- 
self worse than I am though, I was full of information about the 
Russian campaign, which might evaporate unless used, like lime, as 
soon after it was wrought up as possible. About three, Pitfoddels 
called. A bauld crack that auld papist body, and well informed. We 
got on religion. He is very angry with the Irish demagogues, and a 



» See ante, p. 201, and^os^, p. 234. man's Livts of Carey, Marshman, and Ward. 

3 Dr. Marshman died in 1837. See Marsh- London, 2 vols. 8vo. 1859. 



228 JOURNAL [Jan. 1827. 

sound well-thinting man.* Heard of Walter and Jane ; all well, God 
be praised ! 

By a letter from Gibson I see the gross proceeds of Bonaparte^ at 

eight volumes, are ..£12,600 

Discount, five months 210 

£12,390 



I question if more was ever made by a single work, or by a single au- 
thor's labours, in the same time. But whether it is deserved or not 
is the question. 

January 31. — Young Murray, son of Mr. M., in Albemarle Street, 
breakfasted with me. English boys have this advantage, that they 
are well-bred, and can converse when ours are regular-built cubs. I 
am not sure if it is an advantage in the long-run. It is a temptation 
to premature display. 

Wet to the skin coming from the Court. Called on Skene, to give 
him, for the Antiquarian Society, a heart, human apparently, stuck 
full of pins. It was found lying opposite to the threshold of an old 
tenement in [Dalkeith], a little below the surface ; it is in perfect 
preservation. Dined at the Bannatyne Club, where I am chairman. 
We admitted a batch of new members, chiefly noblemen and men 
connected with the public oflaces and records in London, such as Pal- 
grave, Petrie, etc. We drank to our old Scottish heroes, poets, his- 
torians, and printers, and were funny enough, though, like Shy lock, 
I had no will to go abroad. I was supported by Lord Minto and 
Lord Eldin. 

1 John Menzies of Pitfoddels, the last of an tate of Blairs, near Aberdeen, for the founda- 

old Aberdeenshire family, of whom it was said tion of the Roman Catholic College established 

that for thirty-seven years he never became there, and was also a munificent benefactor to 

aware of distress or diflBculty without exerting the Convent of St. Margaret, Edinburgh, open- 

himself to relieve it. In 1828 he gave the es- ed in 1835. Mr. Menzies died in 1843. 



FEBRUARY 

February 1. — I feel a return of the cursed rheumatism. How 
could it miss, with my wetting? ,Also feverish, and a slight head- 
ache. So much for claret and champagne. I begin to be quite unfit 
for a good fellow. Like Mother Cole in the Minor, a thimbleful 
upsets me,* — I mean, annoys my stomach, for my brains do not suf- 
fer. Well, I have had my time of these merry doings. 

" The haunch of the deer, and the wine's red dye, 
Never bard loved them better than I." 

But it was for the sake of sociality ; never either for the flask or the 
venison. That must end — is ended. The evening sky of life does 
not reflect those brilliant flashes of light that shot across its morning 
and noon. Yet I thank God it is neither gloomy nor disconsolately 
lowering ; a sober twilight — that is all. 

I am in great hopes that the Bannatyne Club, by the assistance 
of Thomson's wisdom, industry, and accuracy, will be something far 
superior to the Dilettanti model on which it started. . The Historie 
of K. James VI., Melville'' s Memoirs, and other works, executed or in 
hand, are decided boons to Scottish history and literature. 

February 2. — In confirmation of that which is above stated, I see 
in Thorpe's sale-catalogue a set of the Bannatyne books, lacking five, 
priced £25. Had a dry walk from the Court by way of dainty, and 
made it a long one. Anne went at night to Lady Minto's. 

Hear of Miss White's death. Poor Lydia! she had a party at 
dinner on the Friday before, and had written with her own hand in- 
vitations for another party. Twenty years ago she used to tease me 
with her youthful affectations — her dressing like the Queen of Chim- 
ney-sweeps on May-day morning, and sometimes with rather a free 
turn in conversation, when she let her wit run wild. But she was a 
woman of much wit, and had a feeling and kind heart. She made 
her point good, a bas-bleu in London to a point not easily attained, 
and contrived to have every evening a very good literary melee, and 
little dinners which were very entertaining. She had also the new- 
est lions upon town. In a word, she was not and would not be for- 
gotten, even when disease obliged her, as it did for years, to confine 
herself to her couch ; and the world, much abused for hard-hearted- 
ness, was kind in her case — so she lived in the society she liked. 

» Foote's Comedy, Act i. Scl. 



230 JOURNAL [Feb. 

No great expenditure was necessary for this. She had an easy fort- 
une, but not more. Poor Lydia ! I saw the Duke of York and her 
in London, when Death, it seems, was brandishing his dart over them.* 

"The view o't gave them little fright."* 

Did not get quite a day's work finished to - day, thanks to my 
walk. 

February 3. — There is nought but care on every hand. James 
Hogg writes that he is to lose his farm,' on which he laid out, or 
rather threw away, the profit of all his publications. 

Then Terry has been pressed by Gibson for my debt to him. 
That I may get managed. 

I sometimes doubt if I am in what the good people call the right 
way. Not to sing my own praises, I have been willing always to do 
my friends what good was in my power, and have not shunned per- 
sonal responsibility. But then that was in money matters, to which 
I am naturally indifferent, unless when the consequences press on 
me. But then I am a bad comforter in case of inevitable calamity ; 
and feeling proudly able to endure in my own case, I cannot sympa- 
thise with those whose nerves are of a feebler texture. 

Dined at Jeffrey's, with Lord and Lady Minto, John Murray and 
his lady,* a Mr. Featherstone, an Americo - Yorkshireman, and some 
others. Mrs. Murray is a very amiable person, and seems highly ac- 
complished ; plays most brilliantly. 

February 4. — R.R. These two letters, you must understand, do 
not signify, as in Bibliomania phrase, a double degree of rarity, but, 
chirurgically, a double degree of rheumatism. The wine gets to weak 
places, Ross says. I have a letter from no less a person than that 
pink of booksellers. Sir Richard Phillips, who, it seems, has been 
ruined, and as he sees me floating down the same dark tide, sings 
out his nos poma natamus. 

February 5. — R. One R. will do to-day. If this cursed rheumatism 
gives way to February weather, I will allow she has some right to be 
called a spring month, to which otherwise her pretensions are slender. 
I worked this morning till two o'clock, and visited Mr. Grant's* pict- 

1 Scott, who had accompanied this lady to val Miss Rigby, a Lancashire lady, who was 
the Highlands in the summer of 1808, wrote long known in Edinburgh for her hospitality 
from Edinburgh on 19th January: — " We have and fine social qualities as Lady Murray. (See 
here a very diverting lion and sundry wild page 247, April 2, 1827.) Miss Martineau cele- 
beasts; but the most meritorious is Miss Lydia brated her parliamentary Tea-Table in London, 
White, who is what Oxonians call a lioness of when her husband was Lord Advocate, and 
the first order, with stockings nineteen times Lord Cockburn, the delights of Strachur on 
dyed blue; very lively, very good-humoured, Loch Fyne. 

and extremely absurd. It is very diverting to 

see the sober Scotch ladies staring at this phe- ^ Mr. (afterwards Sir Francis) Grant became 

nomenon." — Life, vol. iii. pp. 38, 95, 96. a member of the Scottish Academy in 1830, an 

2 Burns's "Twa Dogs." — j. g. l. associate of Royal Academy in 1842, and Aca- 

3 Mount Benger. demician in 1851. His successful career as a 

4 John Archibald Murray, whose capital bach- painter secured his elevation to the President- 
elors' dinner on Dec. 8 Scott so pleasantly de- ship of the Academy in 1866. Sir Francis died 
scribes (on page 210), had married in the inter- at Melton-Mowbray in October, 1878, aged 75. 



1827.] JOURNAL 231 

ures, who has them upon sale. They seem, to my inexperienced eye, 
genuine, or at least, good paintings. But I fear picture-buying, like 
horse-jockeyship, is a profession a gentleman cannot make much of 
without laying aside some of his attributes. The pictures are too 
high-priced, I should think, for this market. There is a very know- 
ing catalogue by Frank Grant himself. Next went to see a show of 
wild beasts ; it was a fine one. I think they keep them much cleaner 
than formerly, when the strong smell generally gave me a headache 
for the day. The creatures are also much tamer, which I impute to 
more knowledge of their habits and kind treatment. A lion and ti- 
gress went through their exercise like poodles — jumping, standing, 
and lying down at the word of command. This is rather degrading. 
I would have the Lord Chancellor of Beasts good-humoured, not 
jocose. I treated the elephant, who was a noble fellow, to a shilling's 
worth of cakes. I wish I could have enlarged the space in which so 
much bulk and wisdom is confined. He kept swinging his head 
from side to side, looking as if he marvelled why all the fools that 
gaped at him were at liberty, and he cooped up in the cage. 

Dined at the Royal Society Club — about thirty present. Went 
to the Society in the evening, and heard an essay by Peter Tytler^ on 
the first encourager of Greek learning in England.^ 

February 6. — Was at our Court till two; afterwards wrote a 
good deal, which has become a habit with me. Dined at Sir John 
Hay's, where met the Advocate and a pleasant party. There had 
been a Justiciary trial yesterday, in which something curious had 
occurred. A woman of rather the better class, a farmer's wife, had 
been tried on the 5th for poisoning her maid-servant. There seems 
to have been little doubt of her guilt, but the motive was peculiar. 
The unfortunate girl had an intrigue with her son, which this Mrs. 
Smith (I think that is the name) was desirous to conceal, from some 
ill-advised puritanic notions, and also for fear of her husband. She 
could find no better way of hiding the shame than giving the girl 
(with her own knowledge and consent, I believe) potions to cause 
abortion, which she afterwards changed for arsenic, as the more ef- 
fectual silencing medicine. In the course of the trial one of the jury 
fell down in an epileptic fit, and on his recovery was far too much 
disordered to permit the trial to proceed. With only fourteen jury- 
men it was impossible to go on. But the Advocate, Sir William 

1 Patrick Fraser Tj'tler, the Scottish histo- The Birds of America, commenced in 1827, and 

rian. He died on Christmas -day, 1849, aged was completed in 1839, forming 4 vols, in the 

fifty-eight. — See Burgon's Memoirs, Bvo, Lond. largest folio size, and containing 435 plates. It 

1859. shows the indomitable courage of the author, 

that even when the work was completed, he 

3 Audubon says in his Journal of the same had only 161 subscribers, 82 of whom were in 

date:—" Captain Hall led me to a seat immedi- America. The price of the book wa.s two guin- 

ately opposite to Sir Walter Scott, the Presi- eas for each part with five coloured plates. Dur- 

dent, where I had a perfect view of the great ing the last dozen years its price at auctions runs 

man, and studied Nature from Nature's no- about £250 to £300. Audubon died in New 

blest work." York in 1851. —See Life, by Buchanan, Svo, 

The publication of Audubon's great work, London, 1866. 



232 JOURNAL [Feb. 

Rae, says she shall be tried anew, since she has not tholed an assize. 
Sic Paulus ait — et recte quidem. But, having been half tried, I think 
she should have some benefit of it, as far as saving her life, if con- 
victed on the second indictment. The Advocate declares, however, 
she shall be hanged, as certainly she deserves. But it looks some- 
thing like hanging up a man who has been recovered by the sur- 
geons, which has always been accounted harsh justice. 

February 7. — Wrote six leaves to-day, and am tired — that's all. 

February 8. — I lost much time to-day. I got from the Court 
about half -past twelve, therefore might have reckoned on four hours, 
or three at least, before dinner. But I had to call on Dr. Shortt at 
two, which made me lounge till that hour came. Then I missed him, 
and, too tired to return, went to see the exhibition, where Skene was 
hanging up the pictures, and would not let me in. Then to the Oil 
Gas Company, who propose to send up counsel to support their new 
bill. As I thought the choice unadvisedly made, I fairly opposed 
the mission, which, I suppose, will give much offence ; but I have no 
notion of being shamefaced in doing my duty, and I do not think I 
should permit forward persons to press into situations for which 
their vanity alone renders them competent. Had many proof-sheets 
to correct in the evening. 

February 9. — We had a long day of it at Court, but 1 whipped 
you off half-a-dozen of letters, for, as my cases stood last on the roll, 
I could do what I liked in the interim. This carried me on till two 
o'clock. Called on Baron Hume, and found him, as usual, in high 
spirits, notwithstanding his late illness. Then crept home — my rheu- 
matism much better, though. Corrected lives of Lord Somerville 
and the King [George iii.] ^ for the Prose Works, which took a long 
time ; but I had the whole evening to myself, as Anne dined with 
the Swintons, and went to a ball at the Justice-Clerk's. N.B. — It is 
the first and only ball which has been given this season — a sign the 
times are pinching. 

February 10. — I got a present of Lord Francis Gower's printed 
but unpublished Tale of the Mill.^ It is a fine tale of terror in itself, 
and very happily brought out. He has certainly a true taste for po- 
etry. I do not know why, but from my childhood I have seen some- 
thing fearful, or melancholy at least, about a mill. Whether I had 
been frightened at the machinery when very young, of which I think 
I have some shadowy recollection — whether I had heard the stories 
of the miller of Thirlestane' and similar molendinar tragedies, I can- 
not tell ; but not even recollection of the Lass of Patie's Mill, or the 
Miller of Mansfield, or he who " dwelt on the river Dee," have ever 
got ovei my inclination to connect gloom with a mill, especially when 

1 Biographical Notices had been sent to the ' Afterwards included in The Pilgrimage and 

Weekly Journal in 1826, and are now included other Poems, Lond. 1856. 

in the Miscell. Prose Works, vol. iv. pp. 322- ^ See Craig Brown's Selkirkshire, vol. i. pp. 

342. 285-86. 



1827.] JOURNAL 233 

sun is setting. So I entered into the spirit of the terror with which 
Lord Francis has invested his haunted spot. I dine with the Solici- 
tor to-day, so quoad labour 'tis a blank. But then to-morrow is a new 
day. 

" To-morrow to fresh meads and pastures new." ^ 

February 11. — Wrought a good deal in the morning, and landed 
Boney at Smolensk. But I have him to bring off again ; and, more- 
over, I must collate the authorities on the movements of the second- 
ary armies of Witgenstein and the Admiral with the break -tooth 
name. Dined with Lord Minto, where I met Thomson, Cranstoun, 
and other gay folks. These dinner parties narrow my working hours ; 
yet they must sometimes be, or one would fall out of the line of so- 
ciety, and go to leeward entirely, which is not right to venture. This 
is the high time for parties in Edinburgh ; no wonder one cannot 
keep clear. 

February 12. — I was obliged to read instead of writing, and the 
infernal Russian names, which everybody spells ad libitum^ makes it 
difficult to trace the operations on a better map than mine. I called 
to-day on Dr. Shortt, principal surgeon at Saint Helena, and who pre- 
sided at the opening of Bonaparte's body. He mentions as certain 
the falsehood of a number of the assertions concerning his usage, 
the unhealthy state of the island, and so forth. I have jotted down 
his evidence elsewhere. I could not write when I came home. Ner- 
vous a little, I think, and not yet up to the motions of Tchitchagoff, 
as I must be before I can write. Will [Clerk] and Sir A. Ferguson 
dine here to-day — the first time any one has had that honour for 
long enough, unless at Abbotsford. The good Lord Chief-Commis- 
sioner invited himself, and I asked his son, Admiral Adam. Col. Fer- 
guson is of the party. 

February 13. — The dining parties come thick, and interfere with 
work extremely. I am, however, beforehand very far. Yet, as James 
B. says — the tortoise comes up with the hare. So Puss must make 
a new start ; but not this week. Went to see the exhibition — cer- 
tainly a good one for Scotland — and less trash than I have seen at 
Somerset-House (begging pardon of the pockpuddings). There is a 
beautiful thing by Landseer — a Highlander and two stag-hounds en- 
gaged with a deer. Very spirited, indeed. I forgot my rheuma- 
tism, and could have wished myself of the party. There were many 
fine folks, and there was a collation, chocolate, and so forth. We 
dine at Sir H. Jardine's, with Lord Ch.-Com., Lord Chief-Baron, etc. 

February 14. — " Death's gi'en the art an unco devel." ^ Sir George 
Beaumont's dead ; by far the most sensible and pleasing man I ever 
knew ; kind, too, in his nature, and generous ; gentle in society, and 

1 Milton's Lycidas, varied. ' " Death's gi'en the Lodge an unco devel, 

' Tarn SamBon's dead." 

Bums. —J. G. u 



234 JOURNAL [Feb. 

of those mild manners whicli tend to soften the causticity of the gen- 
eral London [tone] of persiflage and personal satire. As an amateur, 
he was a painter of the very highest rank. Though I know nothing 
of the matter, yet I should hold him a perfect critic on painting, for 
he always made his criticisms intelligible, and used no slang. I am 
very sorry, as much as is in my nature to be, for one whom I could 
see but seldom. He was the great friend of Wordsworth, and un- 
derstood his poetry, which is a rare thing, for it is more easy to see 
his peculiarities than to feel his great merit, or follow his abstract 
ideas. I dined to-day at Lord Ch.-Commissioner's — Lord Minto, and 
Lord Ch.-Baron, also Harden. Little done to-day. 

February 15. — Rheumatism returns with the snow. I had thoughts 
of going to Abbotsford on Saturday, but if this lasts, it will not do ; 
and, sooth to speak, it ought not to do ; though it would do me much 
pleasure if it would do. 

I have a letter from Baron Von Goethe,^ which I must have read 
to me ; for though I know German, I have forgot their written hand. 
I make it a rule seldom to read, and never to answer, foreign letters 
from literary folks. It leads to nothing but the battle-dore and shut- 
tle-cock intercourse of compliments, as light as cork and feathers. 
But Goethe is different, and a wonderful fellow, the Ariosto at once, 
and almost the Voltaire of Germany. Who could have told me thirty 
years ago I should correspond, and be on something like an equal 
footing, with the author of Goetz ? Ay, and who could have told me 
fifty things else that have befallen me f 

1 For letter and reply see Life, vol. ix. pp. airy or artillery in a great measure? and it 
92, 98. seems natural to suppose that we must impute 

2 mr Walter at thi^ date returned the valiia *° ^^"^^^ ^"^^ inactive conduct on the part of 
Ki il Y^Uer at this date returned the yalua- ^^^ j Qe^eral what we cannot account for on 

SL i«ofi fJi?«//n onn^wif/Sf f^^^^^ the idea of the extremely superior valour or 
Nov. 1826 (see ante, p. 200) with the following discipline claimed for the French soldiers by 
^ ^^' their country. The snow seems to have be- 
"Edinbueqh, \ith February 1827, come serious on the 6th November, when Na- 
"My dear Lord Duke,— The two manuscripts poleon was within two marches of Smolensk, 
safely packed leave this by post to-day, as I which he soon after reached, and by that time 
am informed your Grace's franks carry any it appears to me that his army was already 
weight. * * * mouldered away from 100,000 men who left 
" I have been reading with equal instruction Moscow, to about 35,000 only, so that his great 
and pleasure the memoir on the Russian cam- loss was incurred before the snow began, 
paign, which demonstrates as plainly as pos- "I am afraid your Grace has done me an un- 
sible that the French writers have taken ad- paralleled injury in one respect, that the clear- 
vantage of the snow to cover under it all their ness, justice, and precision of j^our Grace's rea- 
General's blunders, and impute to it all their soning puts me out of all patience with my own 
losses. This I observe is Bonaparte's general attempts. I dare hardly hope in this increase 
practice, and that of his admirers. Whenever of business for a note or two on Waterloo; but 
they can charge anything upon the elements if your Grace had any, however hasty, which 
or upon accident, he and they combine in de- could be copied by a secretary, the debt would 
nying all bravery and all wisdom to their ene- be never to be forgotten. 

mies. The conduct of Kutusow on more than "I am going to mention a circumstance, 

one occasion in the retreat seems to have been which I do with great apprehension, lest I 

singularly cautious, or rather timorous. For should be thought to intrude upon j^our Grace's 

it is impossible to give credit to the immense goodness. It respects a youth, the son of one 

superiority claimed by Segur, Beauchamp, etc., of my most intimate friends, a gentleman of 

for the French troops over the Russians. Sure- good family and fortune, who is extremely de- 

ly they were the same Russians who had fought sirous of being admitted a cadet of artillery, 

so bravely against superior force, and how His father is the best draughtsman in Scotland, 

should the twentieth part of the French army and the lad himself shows a great deal of talent 

have been able to clear their way without cav- both in science and the ordinary branches of 



1827.] JOURNAL 235 

February \Q. — R. Still snow ; and, alas ! no time for work, so hard 
am I fagged by the Court and the good company of Edinburgh. I 
almost wish my rheumatics were bad enough to give me an apology 
for staying a week at home. But we have Sunday and Monday clear. 
If not better, I will cribb ofi Tuesday ; and Wednesday is Teind 
day. We dined to-day with Mr. Borthwick, younger of Crookston. 

February 17. — James Ferguson ill of the rheumatism in head 
and neck, and Hector B. Macdonald in neck and shoulders. I won- 
der, as Commodore Trunnion says, what the blackguard hell's-baby 
has to say to the Clerks of Session.* Went to the Second Division 
to assist Hector. N.B. — Don't like it half so well as my own, for 
the speeches are much longer. Home at dinner, and wrought in the 
evening. 

February 18. — Very cold weather. I am rather glad I am not in 
the country. What says Dean Swift — 

" When frost and snow come both together, 
Then sit by the fire and save shoe leather." 

Wrought all morning and finished five pages. Missie dined with us. 

February 19. — As well I give up Abbotsf ord, f or Hamilton is laid 
up with the gout. The snow, too, continues with a hard frost. I 
have seen the day I would have liked it all the better. I read and 
wrote at the bitter account of the French retreat from Moscow, in 
1812, till the little room and coal fire seemed snug by comparison. 
I felt cold in its rigour in my childhood and boyhood, but not since. 
In youth and advanced life we got less sensible to it, but I remem- 
ber thinking it worse than hunger. Uninterrupted to-day, and did 
eight leaves.^ 

February 20. — At Court, and waited to see the poisoning woman. 
She is clearly guilty, but as one or two witnesses said the poor wench 
hinted an intention to poison herself, the jury gave that bastard ver- 
dict. Not proven. I hate that Caledonian medium quid. One who is 
not proven guilty is innocent in the eye of law. It was a face to do 
or die, or perhaps to do to die. Thin features, which had been hand- 
some, a flashing eye, an acute and aquiline nose, lips much marked, as 
arguing decision, and, I think, bad temper — they were thin, and ha- 
bitually compressed, rather turned down at the corners, as one of a 
rather melancholy disposition. There was an awful crowd ; but, 

learning. I enclose a note of the youth's age, have been redoubled upon your Grace's head, 

studies, and progress, in case your Grace might and beg your Grace to believe me, with an un- 

think it possible to place on your list for the usually deep sense of respect and obligation, 

Engineer service the name of a poor Scots Hi- my dear Lord Duke, your Grace's much hon- 

dalgo ; your Grace knows Scotland is a breed- oured and grateful, humble servant, 

ing not a feeding country, and we must send "Walter Scott." 

our sons abroad, as we send our black cattle to —Wellington's Despatches, etc. (Continuation), 

England ; and, as old Lady Campbell of Ard- vol. iii. pp. 590-1. London, 8vo, 1868. 

kinglas proposed to dispose of her nine sons, j Smollett's Perearine Pickle vol i ran 1^ 

we have a strong tendency to put our young Smollett s Peregrine Pickle, vol. i. cap. 16. 

folks 'a' to the sword.' * One page of his ms. answers to four or five 

"I have too long detained you, my Lord of the close printed pages of the original edi- 
Duke, from the many high occupations which tion of his Bonaparte.— i. G. l. 



236 JOURNAL [Feb. 

sitting within the bar, I had the pleasure of seeing much at my ease ; 
the constables knocking the other folks about, which was of course 
very entertaining.* 

Lord Liverpool is ill of an apoplexy. I am sorry for it. He will be 

missed. Who will be got for Premier ? Not B certainly ;' he 

wants weight. If Peel would consent to be made a peer, he would 
do better ; but I doubt his ambition will prefer the House of Com- 
mons. Wrought a good deal. 

February 21. — Being the vacant Wednesday I wrote all the 
morning. Had an answer from D. of W., unsuccessful in getting 
young Skene put upon the engineer list ; he is too old. Went out at 
two with Anne, and visited the exhibition ; also called on the Mans- 
field family and on Sydney Smith. Jeffrey unwell from pleading so 
long and late for the poisoning woman. He has saved her throat and 
taken a quinsey in his own. Adam Ferguson has had a fall with his 
horse. 

February 22. — Was at Court till two, then lounged till Will Mur- 
ray^ came to speak about a dinner for the Theatrical Fund, in order 
to make some arrangements. There are 300 tickets . given out.* I 
fear it will be uncomfortable ; and whatever the stoics may say, a bad 
dinner throws cold water on the charity. I have agreed to preside, a 
situation in which I have been rather felicitous, not by much superi- 
ority of wit or wisdom, far less of eloquence ; but by two or three 
simple rules which I put down here for the benefit of posterity. 

1st. Always hurry the bottle round for five or six rounds without 
prosing yourself or permitting others to prose. A slight fillip of 
wine inclines people to be pleased, and removes the nervousness 
which prevents men from speaking — disposes them, in short, to be 
amusing and to be amused. 

2d. Push on, keep moving, as Punch says. Do not think of say- 
ing fine things — nobody cares for them any more than for fine music, 
which is often too liberally bestowed on such occasions. Speak at 
all ventures, and attempt the mot pour rire. You will find people 
satisfied with wonderfully indifferent jokes if you can but hit the 
taste of the company, which depends much on its character. Even a 
very high party, primed with all the cold irony and non est tanti feel- 

1 Lord Cockburn says: — "Scott's description It may, however, stand for Lord Bathurst, who 
of the woman is very correct; she was like a became President of the Council shortly after- 
vindictive masculine witch. I remember him wards in Wellington's Administration, 
sitting within the bar looking at her. As we 

were moving out, Sir Walter's remark upon 3 Mr. W. H. Murray, Manager of the Theatre 

the acquittal was, 'Well, sirs, all I can say is Royal, Edinburgh. This excellent actor retired 

that if that woman was my wife I should take from the stage with a competency, and spent 

good care to be my own cook. ' ' '—Circuit Jour- the last years of his life in St. Andrews, where 

neys, 8vo, Edinburgh. 1888, p. 12. te died in March, 1852, aged 61. 

2 This can scarcely be taken to refer to 

Brougham, though at 'the time . -,. ^, ,. . , . , ., ., 

^ > s, 4 rpjjjg ^^g tjjg (jij^ner at which the veil was 

"Canning calls Brougham his Z«am«d Friend. publicly Withdrawn from the authorship of 

'My honours come and share 'em.' Waverlev: it took place on Fridav, 23d Febru- 

TJoZllntZ ZXTul^W' ary, 1827^ and a full account of the proceedings 

Annus MiraUlu. is given in the Life, vol. ix. pp. 79-84. 



1827.] JOURNAL 237 

ings, or no feelings, of fashionable folks, may be stormed by a jovial, 
rough, round, and ready preses. Choose your texts with discretion, 
the sermon may be as you like. If a drunkard or an ass breaks in 
with anything out of joint, if you can parry it with a jest, good and 
well — if not, do not exert your serious authority, unless it is some- 
thing very bad. The authority even of a chairman ought to be very 
cautiously exercised. With patience you will have the support of 
every one. 

When you have drunk a few glasses to play the good fellow, and 
banish modesty if you are unlucky enough to have such a trouble- 
some companion, then beware of the cup too much. Nothing is so 
ridiculous as a drunken preses. 

Lastly. Always speak short, and Skeoch dock na skiel — cut a tale 
with a drink. 



" This is the purpose and intent 
Of gude Schir Walter's testament. 



We dined to-day at Mrs. Dundas of Arniston, Dowager. 

February 24. — I carried my own instructions into effect the best 
I could, and if our jests were not good, our laugh was abundant. I 
think I will hardly take the chair again when the company is so mis- 
cellaneous ; though they all behaved perfectly well. Meadowbank 
taxed me with the novels, and to end that farce at once I pleaded 
guilty, so that splore is ended. As to the collection, it was much cry 
and little woo', as the deil said when he shore the sow. Only £280 
from 300 people, but many were to send money to-morrow. They 
did not open books, which was impolitic, but circulated a box, where 
people might put in what they pleased — and some gave shillings, 
which gives but a poor idea of the company. Yet there were many 
respectable people and handsome donations. But this fashion of not 
letting your right hand see what your left hand doeth is no good 
mode of raising a round sum. Your penny-pig collections don't suc- 
ceed. I got away at ten at night. The performers performed very 
like gentlemen, especially Will Murray. They attended as stewards 
with white rods, and never thought of sitting down till after dinner, 
taking care that the company was attended to. 

February 25. — Very bad report of the speeches in the papers. 
We dined at Jeffrey's with Sydney Smith — funny and good-natured 
as usual. One of his daughters is very pretty indeed ; both are well- 
mannered, agreeable, and sing well. The party was pleasant. 

February 26. — At home, and settled to work; but I know not 
why I was out of spirits — quite Laird of Humdudgeon, and did all 
I could to shake it off, and could not. James Ballantyne dined with 
me. 

February 27. — Humdudgeonish still ; hang it, what fools we are ! 

1 Sir Walter parodies the conclusion of King Robert the Bruce's "Maxims or Political Testa- 
ment. "—See Hailes' Annals^ a.d. 1311.— j. g. l. 



238 JOURNAL [Feb. 1827. 

I worked, but coldly and ill. Yet something is done. I wonder if 
other people have these strange alternations of industry and incapac- 
ity. I am sure I do not indulge myself in fancies, but it is accom- 
panied with great drowsiness — bile, I suppose, and terribly jaded 
spirits. I received to-day Dr. Shortt and Major Crocket, who was 
orderly-officer on Boney at the time of his death. 

February 28. — Sir Adam breakfasted. One of the few old friends 
left out of the number of my youthful companions. In youth we 
have many companions, few friends perhaps ; in age companionship 
is ended, except rarely, and by appointment. Old men, by a kind of 
instinct, seek younger companions who listen to their stories, honour 
their grey hairs while present, and mimic and laugh at them when 
their backs are turned. At least that was the way in our day, and I 
warrant our chicks of the present day crow to the same tune. Of all 
the friends that I have left I have none who has any decided attach- 
ment to literature. So either I must talk on that subject to young 
people — in other words, turn proser, or I must turn tea-table talker 
and converse with ladies. I am too old and too proud for either 
character, so I'll live alone and be contented. Lockhart's departure 
for London was a loss to me in this way. Came home late from the 
Court, but worked tightly in the evening. I think discontinuing 
smoking, as 1 have done for these two months past, leaves me less 
muzzy after dinner. At any rate, it breaks a custom — I despise 
custom. 



MARCH 

March 1. — At Court until two — wrote letters under cover of the 
lawyers' long speeches, so paid up some of my correspondents, which 
I seldom do upon any other occasion. I sometimes let letters lie for 
days unopened, as if that would postpone the necessity of answering 
them. Here I am ,at home, and to work we go — not for the first time 
to-day, for I wrought hard before breakfast. So glides away Thurs- 
day 1st. By the by, it is the anniversary of Bosworth Field. In for- 
mer days Richard III. was always acted at London on this day ; now 
the custom, I fancy, is disused. Walpole's Historic Doubts threw a 
mist about this reign. It is very odd to see how his mind dwells 
upon it at first as the mere sport of imagination, till at length they 
became such Delilahs of his imagination that he deems it far worse 
than infidelity to doubt his Doubts. After all, the popular tradition 
is so very strong and pointed concerning the character of Richard, 
that it is I think in vain to doubt the general truth of the outline. 
Shakespeare, we may be sure, wrote his drama in the tone that was 
to suit the popular belief, although where that did Richard wrong, his 
powerful scene was sure to augment the impression. There was an 
action and a reaction. 

March 2. — Clerk walked home with me from the Court. I was 
scarce able to keep up with him ; could once have done it well enough. 
Funny thing at the Theatre. Among the discourse in "High Life be- 
low Stairs," ^ one of the ladies' ladies asks who wrote Shakespeare. 
One says, "Ben Jonson," another, *' Finis." " No," said Will Mur- 
ray, " it is Sir Walter Scott ; he confessed it at a public meeting the 
other day." 

March 3. — Very severe weather, came home covered with snow. 
White as a frosted-plum-cake, by jingo ! No matter ; I am not sorry 
to find I can stand a brush of weather yet; I like to see Arthur's 
Seat and the stern old Castle with their white watch-cloaks on. But, 
as Byron said to Moore, " d — n it, Tom, don't be poetical." I settled 
to Boney, and wrote right long and well. 

March 4. — I sat in by the chimney-neuk with no chance of inter- 
ruption, and " feagued it away." Sir Adam came, and had half an 
hour's chat and laugh. My jaws ought to be sore, if the unwonted- 
ness of the motion could do it. But I have little to laugh at but my- 
self, and my own bizarreries are more like to make me cry. Wrought 
hard, though — there's sense in that. 

» See Townley's Farce. 



240 JOURNAL [March 

March 5. — Our young men of first fashion, in whom tranquillity 
is the prime merit, a sort of quietism of foppery, if one can use the 
expression, have one capital name for a fellow that outres and outroars 
the fashion, a sort of high-buck as they were called in my days. 
They hold him a vulgarian, and call him a tiger. Mr. Gibson came 
in, and we talked over my affairs ; very little to the purpose I doubt. 
Dined at home with Anne as usual, and despatched half-a-dozen 
Selkirk processes ; among others one which savours of Hamesucken.^ 
I think to-day I have finished a quarter of vol. viii., and last. Shall 
I be happy when it is done ? — Umph ! I think not. 

March 6. — A long seat at Court, and an early dinner, as we went 
to the play. John Kemble's brother acted Benedick. He is a fine- 
looking man, and a good actor, but not superior. He reminds you 
eternally that he is acting ; and he had got, as the devil directed it, 
hold of my favourite Benedick, for which he has no power. He had 
not the slightest idea of the part, particularly of the manner in which 
Benedick should conduct himself in the quarrelling scene with the 
Prince and Claudio, in which his character rises almost to the dignity 
of tragedy. The laying aside his light and fantastic humour, and 
showing himself the man of feeling and honour, was finely marked 
of yore by old Tom King.' I remember particularly the high strain 
of grave moral feeling which he threw upon the words — " in a false 
quarrel there is no true valour" — which, spoken as he did, checked 
the very brutal levity of the Prince and Claudio. There were two 
farces ; one I wished to see, and that being the last, was obliged to 
tarry for it. Perhaps the headache I contracted made me a severe 
critic on Cramond Brig,^ a little piece ascribed to Lockhart. Perhaps 
I am unjust, but I cannot think it his ;* there are so few good things 
in it, and so much prosing transferred from that mine of marrowless 
morality called the Miller of Mansfield.^ Yet it pleases. 

March 1. — We are kept working hard during the expiring days 
of the Session, but this being a blank day I wrote hard till dressing 
time, when I went to Will Clerk's to dinner. As a bachelor, and 
keeping a small establishment, he does not do these things often, but 
they are proportionally pleasant when they come round. He had 
trusted Sir Adam to bespeak his dinner, who did it con amore ; so we 
had excellent cheer, and the wines were various and capital. As I 
before hinted, it is not every day that M'Nab* mounts on horseback, 
and so our landlord had a little of that solicitude that the party 
should go off well, which is very flattering to the guests. AYe had a 

1 Hamesucken.—Th& crime of beating or as- * Marginal Note in Original mss. "I never 

saulting a person in his own house. A Scotch saw it— not mine.— j. G. l." 
law term. 

••» King had retired from the stage in 1801. ^ By Dodsley. 
He died four years later. 

3 Cramond Brig is said to have been written « That singular personage, the late M'Xab of 

by Mr. W. H. Murray, the manager of the The- that ilk, spent his life almost entirely in a dis- 

atre, and is still occasionally acted in Edin- trict where a boat was the usual conveyance, 

burgh. —J. G. L. 



1827.] JOURNAL 241 

very pleasant eveuing. The Chief -Commissi oner was there, Admiral 
Adam, Jo. Murray, and Thomson, etc., etc. Sir Adam predominating 
at the head, and dancing what he calls his " merry andrada " in great 
style. In short, we really laughed, and real laughter is a thing as 
rare as real tears. I must say, too, there was a heart, — a kindly feel- 
ing prevailed over the party. Can London give such a dinner? It 
may, but I never saw one ; they are too cold and critical to be so 
easily pleased. In the evening I went with some others to see the 
exhibition lit up for a promenade, where there were all the fashion- 
able folks about town ; the appearance of the rooms was very gay 
indeed. 

March 8. — It snowed all night, which must render the roads im- 
passable, and will detain me here till Monday. Hard work at Court, 
as Hammie is done up with the gout. We dine with Lord Core- 
house — that's not true by the by, for I have mistaken the day. It's 
to-morrow we dine there. Wrought, but not too hard. 

March 9. — An idle morning. Dalgleish being set to pack my 
books. Wrote notes upon a Mr. Kinloch's Collection of Scottish 
Ballads,^ which I communicated to the young author in the Court 
this present morning. We were detained till half-past three o'clock, 
so when I came home I was fatigued and slept. I walk slow, heavily, 
and with pain ; but perhaps the good weather may banish the Fiend 
of the joints. At any rate, impatience will do nae good at a', man. 
Letter from Charles for £50. Silver and gold have I none ; but that 
which I have I will give unto him. We dined at the Cranstouns, — 
I beg his pardon, Lord Corehouse ; Ferguson, Thomson, Will Clerk, 
etc., were there, also the Smiths and John Murray, so we had a pleas- 
ant evening. 

March 10. — The business at the Court was not so heavy as I 
have seen it the last day of the Session, yet sharp enough. About 
three o'clock I got to a meeting of the Bannatyne Club. I hope this 
institution will be really useful and creditable. Thomson is superin- 
tending a capital edition of Sir James Melville's Memoirs.' It is 
brave to see how he wags his Scots tongue, and what a difference 
there is in the force and firmness of the language, compared to the 
mincing English edition in which he has hitherto been alone known. 
Nothing to-day but correcting proofs ; Anne went to the play, I re- 
mained at home. 

March 11. — All my books packed this morning, and this and to- 
morrow will be blank days, or nearly such ; but I am far ahead of 
the printer, who is not done with vol. vii., while I am deep in volume 
viii. I hate packing; but my servants never pack books quite to 
please me. James Ballantyne dined with us. He kept up ray heart 
about Bonaparte, which sometimes flags ; and he is such a grumbler 

1 Ancient Scottish Ballads,recovered from tra- a issued by the Club, June 4, 1837. 
diiion, with notes, etc. , by George R. Kinloch, 
8vo, London, 1827. 

16 



242 JOURNAL [March 

that I think I may trust him when he is favourable. There must be 
sad inaccuracies, some which might certainly have been prevented by 
care ; but as the Lazaroni used to say, " Did you but know how lazy 
I am !" 

\Abhotsf or d,'\ March 12. — Away we set, and came safely to Ab- 
botsford amid all the dulness of a great thaw, which has set the rivers 
a-streaming in full tide. The wind is wintry, but for my part 

"I like this rocking of the battlements." ' 

I was received by old Tom and the dogs, with the unsophisticated 
feelings of goodwill. I have been trying to read a new novel which 
I have heard praised. It is called Abnacks, and the author has so 
well succeeded in describing the cold selfish fopperies of the time, 
that the copy is almost as dull as the original. I think I will take 
up my bundle of Sheriff-Court processes instead of Almacks, as the 
more entertaining avocation of the two. 

March 13. — Before breakfast, prepared and forwarded the proc- 
esses to Selkirk. As I had the loan of £250 at March from Cadell 
I am now verging on to the £500 which he promised to allow me 
in advance on second series Canongate Chronicles. I do not like 
this, but unless I review or write to some other purpose, what else 
can I do? My own expenses are as limited as possible, but my 
house expenses are considerable, and every now and then starts up 
something of old scores which I cannot turn over to Mr. Gibson and 
his co-trustees. Well — time and the hour — money is the smallest 
consideration. 

Had a pleasant walk to the thicket, though my ideas were olla- 
podrida-ish, curiously checkered between pleasure and melancholy. 
I have cause enough for both humours, God knows. I expect this 
will not be a day of work but of idleness, for my books are not come. 
Would to God I could make it light thoughtless idleness, such as I used 
to have when the silly smart fancies ran in my brain like the bubbles 
in a glass of champagne, — as brilliant to my thinking, as intoxicating 
as evanescent. But the wine is somewhat on the lees. Perhaps it 
was but indifferent cider after all. Yet I am happy in this place, 
where everything looks friendly, from old Tom to young Nym.'' Af- 
ter all, he has little to complain of who has left so many things that 
like him. 

March 14. — All yesterdaj^ spent in putting to rights books, and 
so forth. Not a word written except interlocutors. But this won't 
do. I have tow on the rock, and it must be spun off. Let us see 
our present undertakings. 1. Napoleon. 2. Review Home, Cran- 
bourne Chase,^ and the Mysteries. 3. Something for that poor fai- 

1 Zanga in The Revenge, Act i. Sc. 1.— J. G. l. "I am sorry Sir Walter never redeemed his 

2 Nimrod, a staghound.— j. g. l. promise to make it the subject of an article in 

3 Anecdotes of Craribourne Chase, etc., by the Quarterly Review.^ ^ — See 2/i/e, vol. vii. pp. 
Cbafin. 8vo, London, 1818. Mr. Lockhart says, 43-4i 



1827.] JOURNAL 243 

neant Gillies. 4. Essay on Ballad and Song. 5. Something on the 
modern state of France. These two last for the Prose Works. But 
they may 

" do a little more, 

And produce a little ore." 

Come, we' must up and be doing. There is a rare scud without, 
which says, " Go spin, you jade, go spin." I loitered on, and might 
have answered, 

"My spinning-wheel is auld and stiff." 

Smoked a brace of cigars after dinner as a sedative. This is the 
first time I have smoked these two months. I was afraid the cus- 
tom would master me. Went to work in the afternoon, and reviewed 
for Lockhart Mackenzie's edition of Home's Works. ^ Proceeded as 
far as the eighth page. 

March 15. — Kept still at the review till two o'clock; not that 
there is any hurry, but because I should lose my ideas, which are not 
worth preserving. Went on therefore. I drove over to Huntly 
Burn with Anne, then walked through the plantations, with Tom's 
help to pull me through the snow-wreaths. Returned in a glow of 
heat and spirits. Corrected proof-sheets in the evening. 



March 16. 



" A trifling day we have had here, 
Begun with trifle and ended." 



But I hope no otherwise so ended than to meet the rubrick of the 
ballad, for it is but three o'clock. In the morning I was Vhomme qui 
cherche — everything fell aside, — the very pens absconded, and crept 
in among a pack of letters and trumpery, where I had the devil's 
work finding them. Thus the time before breakfast was idled, or 
rather fidgeted, away. Afterwards it was rather worse. I had set- 
tled to finish the review, when, behold, as I am apt to do at a set 
task, I jibb'd, and my thoughts would rather have gone with Water- 
loo. So I dawdled, as the women say, with both, now writing a page 
or two of the review, now reading a few pages of the Battle of Wa- 
terloo by Captain Pringle, a manuscript which is excellently written."^ 
Well, I will find the advantage of it by and by. So now I will try 
to finish this accursed review, for there is nothing to prevent me, 
save the untractable character that hates to work on compulsion, 
whether of individuals or circumstances. 

March IV. — I wrought away at the review and nearly finished it. 
Was interrupted, however, by a note from Ballantyne, demanding 
copy, which brought me back from Home and Mackenzie to Boney. 

1 The article appeared in the Number for 2 See Captain John Pringle's remarks on the 

June 1827, and is now included in the Prose campaign of 1815 in App. to Scott's Napoleon, 
4fW. Works, vol. xix. pp. 283-367. vol. ix. pp. 115-160, 



4 JOURNAL [March 

1 Had my walk as usual, and worked nevertlieless very fairly. Cor- 
rected proofs. 

March 18. — Took up Boney again. I am now at writing, as I 
used to be at riding, slow, heavy, and awkward at mounting, but when 
I did get fixed in my saddle, could screed away with any one. I 
have got six pages ready for my learned Theban^ to-morrow morn- 
ing. William Laidlaw and his brother George dined with me, but J 
wrote in the evening all the same. 

March 19. — Set about my labours, but enter Captain John Fer 
guson from the Spanish Main, where he has been for three years. 
The honest tar sat about two hours, and I was heartily glad to see 
him again. I had a general sketch of his adventures, which we will 
hear more in detail when we can meet at kail-time. Notwithstand- 
ing this interruption I have pushed far into the seventh page. Well 
done for one day. Twenty days should finish me at this rate, and I 
read hard too. But allowance must be made for interruptions. 

March 20. — To-day worked till twelve o'clock, then went with 
Anne on a visit of condolence to Mrs. Pringle of Yair and her fam- 
ily. ;Mr. Pringle was the friend both of my father and grandfather ; 
the acquaintance of our families is at least a century old. 

March 21. — Wrote till twelve, then out upon the heights though 
the day was stormy, and faced the gale bravely. Tom Purdie was 
not with me. He would have obliged me to keep the sheltered 
ground. But, I don't know — 

"Even in our ashes live our wonted fires," 

There is a touch of the old spirit in me yet that bids me brave the 
tempest, — the spirit that, in spite of manifold infirmities, made me a 
roaring boy in my youth, a desperate climber, a bold rider, a deep 
drinker, and a stout player at single-stick, of all which valuable qual- 
ities there are now but slender remains. I worked hard when I came 
in, and finished five pages. 

March 22. — Yesterday I wrote to James Ballantyne, acquiescing in 
his urgent request to extend the two last volumes to about 600 each. 
I believe it will be no more than necessary after all, but makes one feel 
like a dog in a wheel, always moving and never advancing. 

March 23. — When I was a child, and indeed for some years after, 
my amusement was m supposing to myself a set of persons engaged 
in various scenes which contrasted them with each other, and I re- 
member to this day the accuracy of my childish imagination. This 
might be the effect of a natural turn to fictitious narrative, or it might 
be the cause of it, or there might be an action and reaction, or it 
does not signify a pin's head how it is. But with a flash of this re- 
maining spirit, 1 imagine my mother Duty to be a sort of old task- 

i Lear. Act iii. Sc. 4 



1827.] JOURNAL U5 

mistress, like the hag of the merchant Abudah, in the Tales of 
the Genii — not a hag though, by any means ; on the contrary, my 
old woman wears a rich old-fashioned gown of black silk, with ruf- 
fles of triple blonde-lace, and a coif as rich as that of Pearling Jean ;^ 
a figure and countenance something like Lady D. S.'s twenty years 
ago ; a clear blue eye, capable of great severity of expression, and 
conforming in that with a wrinkled brow, of which the ordinary ex- 
pression is a serious approach to a frown — a cautionary and nervous 
shake of the head ; in her withered hand an ebony staff with a crutch 
head, — a Tompion gold watch, which annoys all who know her by 
striking the quarters as regularly as if one wished to hear them. Oc- 
casionally she has a small scourge of nettles, which I feel her lay 
across my fingers at this moment, and so Tace is Latin for a candle.* 
I have 150 pages to write yet. 

March 24. — Does Duty not wear a pair of round old-fashioned 
silver buckles? Buckles she has, but they are square ones. All be- 
longing to Duty is rectangular. Thus can we poor children of imag- 
ination play with the ideas we create, like children with soap-bubbles. 
Pity that we pay for it at other times by starting at our shadows. 



" Man but a rush against Othello's breast. 



The hard work still proceeds, varied only by a short walk. 

March 25. — Hard work still, but went to Huntly Burn on foot, 
and returned in the carriage. Walked well and stoutly — God be 
praised ! — and prepared a whole bundle of proofs and copy for the 
Blucher to-morrow ; that damned work will certainly end some time 
or other. As it drips and dribbles out on the paper, I think of the 
old drunken Presbyterian under the spout. 

March 26. — Despatched packets. Colonel and Captain Ferguson 
arrived to breakfast. I had previously determined to give myself a 
day to write letters ; and, as I expect John Thomson to dinner, this 
day will do as well as another. I cannot keep up with the world 
without shying a letter now and then. It is true the greatest hap- 
piness I could think of would be to be rid of the world entirely. 
Excepting my own family, I have little pleasure in the world, less 
business in it, and am heartily careless about all its concerns. Mr. 

1 "Pearling Jean," the name of the ghost of his works.i But though its origin cannot 
of the Spanish Nun at AUanbank, Berwick- be traced, Swift uses it in that very curious 
shire See Sharpe's Letters, vol. i. pp. 303-5, collection of proverbs and saws, which he 
and Ingram's Haunted Homes, Lond. 1884, vol. strung together under the title of Polite Con- 
i. pp. 1-4 versation, and published about 1738.2 Fielding 

2 This quaint saying, arising out of some for- also introduces it in Amelia,^ 1752. See N'otes 
gotten joke, has been thought to be Scotfs and Queries, first series, vol. i. p. 385; ii. p. 45; 
own, as it was a favourite with him and his in- iv. p. 450; x. p. 173; sixth series, vol. iii. p. 213; 
timates, and he introduces it in more than one iv. p. 157. 

1 e.g. Redgauntlet, ch. xii. Pate-in-Peril at Dumfries. 

2 Lord Smart — " Well, Tom, can you tell me what's Latin for a candle!" 

Neverout — " O, my Lord, I know that [answer]: Brandy is Latin for a goose! and Tace is Latin for a candle."— 
Scott's Swift, vol. Ix. p. 457. 

8 " Tace, Madam," added Murphy, "ia Latin for a candle." — Amelia, Bk. i, cap. zi. 



246 JOURNAL [March, 1827. 

Thomson came accordingly — not Jolin Thomson of Duddingston, 
whom the letter led me to expect, but John Anstruther Thomson of 
Charlton [Fifeshire], the son-in-law of Lord Ch. -Commissioner. 

March 27. — Wrote two leaves this morning, and gave the day- 
after breakfast to my visitor, who is a country gentleman of the best 
description ; knows the world, having been a good deal attached both 
to the turf and the field ; is extremely good-humoured, and a good 
deal of a local antiquary. I showed him the plantations, going first 
round the terrace, then to the lake, then came down by the Rhym- 
er's Glen, and took carriage at Huntly Burn, almost the grand tour, 
only we did not walk from Huntly Burn. The Fergusons dined 
with us. 

March 28. — Mr. Thomson left us about twelve for Minto, parting 
a pleased guest, I hope, from a pleased landlord. When I see a '' gem- 
man as is a gemman," as the blackguards say, why, I know how to be 
civil. After he left I set doggedly to work with Bonaparte, who had 
fallen a little into arrear. I can clear the ground better now by 
mashing up my old work in the Edinburgh Register with my new 
matter, a species of colcannen, where cold potatoes are mixed with 
hot cabbage. After all, I think Ballantyne is right, and that I h^ve 
some talents for history-writing after all. That same history in the 
Register reads prettily enough. Coragio, cry Claymore. I finished 
five pages, but with additions from Register they will run to more 
than double I hope ; like PuS in the Critic, be luxuriant.^ 

Here is snow back again, a nasty, comfortless, stormy sort of a 
day, and I will work it off at Boney. What shall I do when Bona- 
parte is done ? He engrosses me morning, noon, and night. Never 
mind ; Komt Zeit komt Rath, as the German says. I did not work 
longer than twelve, however, but went out in as rough weather as I 
have seen, and stood out several snow blasts. 

March 29, 30. — 

*' He walk'd and wrought, poor soul ! What then ? 
Why, then he walk'd and wrought again." 

March 31. — Day varied by dining with Mr. Scrope, where we 
found Mr. Williams and Mr. Simson,^ both excellent artists. We had 
not too much of the palette, but made a very agreeable day out. I 
contrived to mislay the proof-sheets sent me this morning, so that I 
must have a revise. This frequent absence of mind becomes very 
exceeding troublesome. I have the distinct recollection of laying 
them carefully aside after I dressed to go to the Pavilion. Well, I 
have a head — the proverb is musty. 

» Sheridan's Play, Act ii. Sc. 1. 2 William Simson, R.S. A., landscape painter 

He died in London, 1847. 



APRIL 

April 1. — The proofs are not to be found. Applications from 
R. P. G[illies]. I must do something for him ; yet have the melan- 
choly conviction that nothing will do him any good. Then he writes 
letters and expects answers. Then they are bothering me about 
writing in behalf of the oil-gas light, which is going to the devil very 
fast. I cannot be going a-begging for them or anybody. Please to 
look down with an eye of pity — a poor distressed creature ! No, not 
for the last morsel of bread. A dry ditch and a speedy death is worth 
it all. 

April 2. — Another letter from R. P. G. I shall begin to wish, like 
S., that he had been murthered and robbed in his walks between Wim- 
bledon and London. John [Archibald] Murray and his young wife 
came to dinner, and in good time. I like her very much, and think 
he has been very lucky. She is not in the vaward of youth, but John 
is but two or three years my junior. She is pleasing in her manners, 
and totally free from affectation ; a beautiful musician, and willingly 
exerts her talents in tliat way ; is said to be very learned, but shows 
none of it. A large fortune is no bad addition to such a woman's 
society. 

April 3. — I had processes to decide ; and though I arose at my 
usual hour, I could not get through above two of five proofs. After 
breakfast I walked with John Murray, and at twelve we went for 
Melrose, where I had to show the lions. We came back by Huntly 
Burn, where the carriage broke down, and gave us a pretty long walk 
home. Mr. Scrope dined with his two artists, and John [Thomson ?]. 
The last is not only the best landscape-painter of his age and coun- 
try, but is, moreover, one of the warmest-hearted men living, with a 
keen and unaffected feeling of poetry. Poor fellow ! he has had many 
misfortunes in his family. I drank a glass or two of \^ine more than 
usual, got into good spirits, and came from Tripoli for the amusement 
of the good company. I was in good fooling. 

April 4. — I think I have a little headache this morning; how- 
ever, as Othello says, " That's not much." I saw our guests go off 
by seven in the morning, but was not in time to give them good- 
bye. 

"And now again, boys, to the oar." 

I did not go to the oar though, but walked a good deal. 

April 5. — Heard from Lockhart ; the Duke of W[ellington] and 



248 JOURNAL [April 

Croker are pleased witli my historical labours ; so far well — for tlie 
former, as a soldier said of him, "I would rather have his long nose on 
my side than a whole brigade." Well ! something good may come 
of it, and if it does it will be good luck, for, as you and I know, Moth- 
er Duty, it has been a rummily written work. I wrote hard to-day. 

April 6. — Do. Do. I only took one turn about the thicket, and 
have nothing to put down but to record my labours. 

April 7. — The same history occurs ; my desk and my exercise. I 
am a perfect automaton. Bonaparte runs in my head from seven in 
the morning till ten at night without intermission. I wrote six leaves 
to-day and corrected four proofs. 

April 8. — Ginger, being in my room, was safely delivered in her 
basket of four puppies ; the mother and children all doing well. Faith ! 
that is as important an entry as my Journal could desire. The day is 
so beautiful that I long to go out. I won't, though, till I have done 
something. A letter from Mr. Gibson about the trust affairs. If the 
infernal bargain with Constable go on well, there will be a pretty sop 
in the pan to the creditors ; £35,000 at least. If I could work as ef- 
fectually for three years more, I shall stand on my feet like a man. 
But who can assure success with the public ? 

April 9. — I wrote as hard to-day as need be, finished my neat 
eight pages, and, notwithstanding, drove out and visited at Gat- 
tonside. The devil must be in it if the matter drags out longer 
now. 

April 10. — Some incivility from the Leith Bank, which 1 despise 
with my heels. I have done for settling my affairs all that' any man 
— much more than most men — could have done, and they refuse a 
draught of £20, because, in mistake, it was £8 overdrawn. But 
what can be expected of a sow but a grumph ? Wrought hard, 
hard. 

April 11. — The parks were rouped for £100 a year more than 
they brought last year. Poor Abbotsford will come to good after all. 
In the meantime it is Sic vos non vobis — but who cares a farthing ? If 
Boney succeeds, we will give these affairs a blue eye, and I will wrestle 
stoutly with them, although 

"My hanks they are covered with bees^''^^ 

or rather with wasps. A very tough day's work. 

April 12. — Ha-a-lt — as we used to say, my proof-sheets being still 
behind. Very unhandsome conduct on the part of the Blucher^ while 
I was lauding it so profusely. It is necessary to halt and close up our 
files — of correspondence I mean. So it is a chance if, except for con- 
tradiction's sake, or upon getting the proof-sheets, I write a line to- 



» See Shenstone's Pastoral Ballad, Part ii., 2 The coach to Edinburgh. 

Hope. 



1827.J JOURNAL 249 

day at Boney, I did, however, correct five revised sheets and one 
proof, which took me up so much of the day that I had but one turn 
through the courtyard. Owing to this I had some of my flutterings, 
my trembling exies, as the old people called the ague. Wrote a great 
many letters — but no '' copy." 

April 13. — I have sometimes wondered with what regularity — 
that is, for a shrew of my impatient temper — 1 have been able to 
keep this Journal. The use of the first person being, of course, the 
very essence of a diary, I conceive it is chiefly vanity, the dear pleas- 
ure of writing about the best of good fellows. Myself, which gives me 
perseverance to continue this idle task. This morning I wrote till 
breakfast, then went out and marked trees to be cut for paling, and 
am just returned — and what does any one care ? Ay, but, Gad ! I care 
myself, though. We had at dinner to-day Mr. and Mrs. Cranstoun 
(Burns's Maria of Ballochmyle*), Mr. Bainbridge and daughters, and 
Colonel Russell. 

April 14. — Went to Selkirk to try a fellow for an assault on Dr. 
Clarkson — fined him seven guineas, which, with his necessary expenses, 
will amount to ten guineas. It is rather too little ; but as his income 
does not amount to £30 a year, it will pinch him severely enough, 
and is better than sending him to an ill-kept jail, where he would be 
idle and drunk from morning to night. I had a dreadful headache 
while sitting in the Court — rheumatism in perfection. It did not last 
after I got warm by the fireside. 

April 15. — Delightful soft morning, with mild rain. Walked out 
and got wet, as a sovereign cure for the rheumatism. Was quite well, 
though, and scribbled away. 

April 16. — A day of work and exercise. In the evening a letter 
from L[ockhart], with the wonderful news that the Ministry has bro- 
ken up, and apparently for no cause that any one can explain. The 
old grudge, I suppose, betwixt Peel and Canning, which has gone on 
augmenting like a crack in the side of a house, which enlarges from 
day to day, till down goes the whole. Mr. Canning has declared 
himself fully satisfied with J, L., and sent Barrow to tell him so. His 
suspicions were indeed most erroneous, but they were repelled with no 
little spirit both by L. and myself, and Canning has not been like an- 
other Great Man I know to whom I showed demonstrably that he had 
suspected an individual unjustly. " It may be so," he said, " but his 
mode of defending himself was offensive." ' 

1 See "The Braes of Ballochmyle;" Currie's "iVor^A.— There indeed, James, was a beau- 
Burns, vol. iv. p. 294. tiful exhibition of party politics, a dignified 

2 The conduct of the Quarterly at this time exhibition of personal independence." — Nodes 
was in after years thus commented upon by Ambrosianae. 

John Wilson. 

"iVor<A.— While we were defending the prin- It is understood that Canning, who had re- 
ciples of the British constitution, bearding its ceived the King's commands in April 10, felt 
enemies, and administering to them the knout, keenly the loneliness of his position— estranged 
the Quarterly Review was meek and mum as a from his old comrades, and deterred by the re- 
mouse, menibrance of many bitter satires against them 

" Tic/irZer.— Afraid to lose the countenance from having close intimacy with his new coad- 

aud occasional assistance of Mr. Canning. jutors. 



250 JOURNAL [April 

April 17. — Went to dinner to-day to Mr. Bainbridge's Gattonside 
House, and had fireworks in the evening, made by Captain Burchard, 
a good-humoured kind of Will Wimble.^ One nice little boy an- 
nounced to us everything that was going to be done, with the impor- 
tance of a prologue. Some of the country folks assembled, and our 
party was enlivened by the squeaks of the wenches and the long-pro- 
tracted Eh, eh's ! by which a Teviotdale tup testifies his wonder. 

April 18. — I felt the impatience of news so much that I walked 
up to Mr. Laidlaw, surely for no other purpose than to talk politics. 
This interrupted Boney a little. After I returned, about twelve or 
one, behold Tom Tack ; he comes from Buenos Ayres with a parcel of 
little curiosities he had picked up for me. As Tom Tack spins a 
tough yarn, I lost the morning almost entirely — what with one thing, 
what with t' other, as my friend the Laird of Raeburn says. Nor have 
I much to say for the evening, only I smoked a cigar more than usu- 
al to get the box ended, and give up the custom for a little. 

April 19. — Another letter from Lockhart.* I am sorry when 1 
think of the goodly fellowship of vessels which are now scattered on 
the ocean. There is the Duke of Wellington, the Lord Chancellor, 
Lord Melville, Mr. Peel, and I wot not who besides, all turned out of 
office or resigned ! I wonder what they can do in the House of Lords 
when all the great Tories are on the wrong side of the House. Can- 
ning seems quite serious in his views of helping Lockhart. I hope it. 
will come to something. 

April 20. — A surly sort of day. I walked for two hours, how- 
ever, and then returned chiefly to Nap. Egad ! I believe it has an 
end at last, this blasted work. I have the fellow at Plymouth, or 
near about it. Well, I declare, I thought the end of these beastly 
big eight volumes was like the end of the world, which is alwayf 
talked of and never comes. 

April 21. — Here is a vile day — downright rain, which disconcerts 
an inroad of bairns from Gattonside, and, of course, annihilates a part 
of the stock of human happiness. But what says the proverb of your 
true rainy day — 

" 'Tis good for book, 'tis good for work, 
For cup and can, or knife and fork." 

April 22. — Wrote till twelve o'clock, then sallied forth, and 
walked to Huntly Burn with Tom ; and so, look you, sir, I drove 

1 See Spectator. Lord Melville, I suppose, falls of course— per- 

haps cum tota seqiLelA, about which sequela, 

2 " . . . Your letter has given me the vertigo unless Sir W. Rae and the Solicitor, I care little, 
—my head turns round like a chariot wheel, The whole is glamour to one who reads no pa- 
and I am on the point of asking— pers, and has none to read. I must get one, 

,,,„ , , » T r.M T ... though, if this work is to go on, for it is quite 

Why, how now? Am I Giles, or am I not!' bursting in ignorance. Canning is haughty and 

"The Duke of Wellington out?— bad news at prejudiced— but. I think, honourable as well as 

home, and worse abroad. Lord Anglesea in his able: noiis verrons. I fear Croker will shake, 

situation? — does not much mend the matter. and heartily sorry I should feel for that. . . ." 

Duke of Clarence in the Navy?— wild work. —Scott to Lockhart: Life, vol. ix. p. 99. 



1827.] JOURNAL 251 

home in the carriage. Wrought in the afternoon, and tried to read 
De VerCj a sensible but heavy book, written by an able hand — but a 
great bore for all that.^ Wrote in the evening. 

April 23. — Snowy morning. White as my shirt. The little Bain- 
bridges came over; invited to see the armoury, etc., which I stood 
showman to. It is odd how much less cubbish the English boys are 
than the Scotch. Well-mannered and sensible are the southern boys. 
I suppose the sun brings them forward. Here comes six o'clock at 
night, and it is snowing as if it had not snowed these forty years be- 
fore. Well, I'll work away a couple of chapters — three at most will 
finish Napoleon. 

April 24. — Still deep snow — a foot thick in the court-yard, I dare 
say. Severe welcome to the poor lambs now coming into the world. 
But what signifies whether they die just now, or a little while after 
to be united with salad at luncheon-time? It signifies a good deal 
too. There is a period, though a short one, when they dance among 
the gowans, and seem happy. As for your aged sheep or wether, 
the sooner they pass to the Norman side of the vocabulary the better. 
They are like some old dowager ladies and gentlemen of my acquaint- 
ance, — no one cares about them till they come to be cut up^ and then 
we see how the tallow lies on the kidneys and the chine. 

April 25. — Snow yet, and it prevents my walking, and I grow 
bilious. I wrote hard though. I have now got Boney pegg'd up in 
the knotty entrails of Saint Helena, and may make a short pause. _ 

So I finished the review of John Home's works, which, after all, 
are poorer than I thought them. Good blank verse and stately senti- 
ment, but something lukewarmish, excepting Douglas, which is cer- 
tainly a masterpiece. Even that does not stand the closet. Its merits 
are for the stage ; but it is certainly one of the best acting plays go- 
ing. Perhaps a play, to act well, should not be too poetical. 

There is a talk in London of bringing in the Marquis of Lans- 
downe, then Lauderdale will perhaps come in here. It is certain the 
old Tory party is down the wind, not from political opinions, but from 
personal aversion to Canning. Perhaps his satirical temper has part- 
ly occasioned this ; but I rather consider emulation as the source of 
it, the head and front of the offending. Croker no longer rhymes to 
joker. He has made a good coup^ it is said, by securing Lord Hert- 
ford for the new administration. D. W. calls him their viper. After 
all, I cannot sympathise with that delicacy which throws up office, 
because the most eloquent man in England, and certainly the only 
man who can manage the House of Commons, is named Minister.* 

April 26. — The snow still profusely distributed, and the surface, 
as our hair used to be in youth, after we had played at some active 
game, half black, half white, all in large patches. I finished the crit- 

1 R. Plumer Ward.— See July 4. crisis will be found in his letters to Lockhart 

and Morritt in Life, vol. ix. (April, May, and 
a A fuller statement of Scott's views at this June, 1827). 



252 



JOURNAL 



[April 



icism on Home, adding a string of Jacobite anecdotes, like that which 
boys put to a kite's tail. Sent off the packet to Lockhart ; at the 
same time sent Croker a volume of French tracts, containing La Porte- 
feuille de Bonaparte, which he wished to see. Received a great cargo 
of papers from Bernadotte, some curious, and would have been inesti- 
mable two months back, but now my siege is almost made. Still my 
feelings for poor Count Itterburg,^ the lineal and legitimate, make me 
averse to have much to do with this child of the revolution. 

April 27. — This hand of mine gets to be like a kitten's scratch, 
and will require much deciphering, or, what may be as well for the 
writer, cannot be deciphered at all. I am sure I cannot read it my- 
self. Weather better, which is well, as I shall get a walk. I have 
been a little nervous, having been confined to the house for three 
days. Well, I may be disabled from duty, but my tamed spirits and 
sense of dejection have quelled all that freakishness of humour which 
made me a voluntary idler. I present myself to the morning task, as 
the hack-horse patiently trudges to the pole of his chaise, and backs, 
however reluctantly, to have the traces fixed. Such are the uses of 
adversity. 

April 28. — Wrought at continuing the Works, with some criti- 



1 Count Itterburg, then in his 20th year, 
was the name under which Gustavus, the ex- 
Crown Prince of Sweden, visited Scotland in 
1819. It was his intention to study at the 
University of Edinburgh during the winter 
session, but, his real name becoming known, 
this was rendered impracticable by the curios- 
ity and attention of the public. He devoted 
himself mainly to the study of military mat- 
ters, and out-door exercises, roughing it in all 
sorts of weather, sometimes, — to his mentor 
Baron Poller's uneasiness,— setting out on dark 
and stormy nights, and making his way across 
country from point to point. This self-imposed 
training was no doubt with the secret hope 
that he might some day be called upon by the 
Swedes to oust Bernadotte, and mount the 
throne of the great Gustavus. Mr. Skene saw 
a good deal of him, and gives many interesting 
details of his life in Edinburgh, such as the 
following account of a meeting at his own 
house. " He was interested with a set of por- 
traits of the two last generations of the Royal 
Family of Scotland, which hung in my dining- 
room, and which had been presented to my 
grandfather by Prince Charles Edward, in con- 
sideration of the sacrifices he had made for the 
Prince's service during the unfortunate enter- 
prise of the year 1745, having raised and com- 
manded one of the battalions of Lord Lewis 
Gordon's brigade. The portrait of Prince 
Charles Edward, taken about the same age as 
Comte Itterburg, and no doubt also the marked 
analogy existing in the circumstances to which 
they had been each reduced, seemed much 
to engage his notice; and when the ladies had 
retired he begged me to give him some account 
of the rebellion, and of the various endeavours 
of the Stewarts to regain the Scottish crown. 
The subject was rather a comprehensive one, 
but having done my best to put him in posses- 



sion of the leading features, it seemed to have 
taken very strong hold of his mind, as he fre- 
quently, at our subsequent meetings, reverted 
to the subject. Upon another occasion by de- 
grees the topic of conversation slipped into its 
wonted channel— the rebellion of 1745, its final 
disaster, and the singular escape of the Prince 
from the pursuit of his enemies. The Comte 
inquired what effect the failure of the enter- 
prise had produced upon the Prince's charac- 
ter, with whose gallant bearing and enthusi- 
asm, in the conduct of his desperate enterprise, 
he evinced the strongest interest and sympa- 
thy. I stated briefiy the mortifying disappoint- 
ments to which Charles Edward was exposed 
in France, the hopelessness of his cause, and 
the indifference generally shown to him by the 
continental courts, which so much preyed on 
his mind as finally to stifle every spark of his 
former character, so that he gave himself up 
to a listless indifference, which terminated in 
his becoming a sot during the latter years 
of his life. On turning round to the Prince, 
who had been listening to these details, I per- 
ceived the big drops chasing each other down 
his cheeks and therefore changed the subject, 
and he never again recurred to ii.''''— Reminis- 
cences. 

Count Itterburg, or Prince Gustavus Vasa, 
to give him the title of an old family dignity 
which he assumed in 1829, entered the Austri- 
an army, in which he attained the rank of 
Lieutenant Field-Marshal. His services, it is 
needless to say, were never required by the 
Swedes, though he never relinquished his pre- 
tensions, and claimed the throne at his father's 
death in 1837 He died at Pillnitz on the 4th 
August, 1877, leaving one daughter, the present 
Queen of Saxony. 

Notices of his visits to 39 Castle Street and 
Abbotsford are given in the 6th vol. oi Life. 



1827.] JOURNAL 253 

cism on Defoe/ I have great aversion, I cannot tell why, to stuffing 
the " Border Antiquities " into what they call the Prose Works. 

There is no encouragement, to be sure, for doing better, for no- 
body seems to care. I cannot get an answer from J. Ballantyne, 
whether he thinks the review on the Highlands would be a better 
substitution. 

April 29. — Colonel and Captain Ferguson dined here with Mr. 
Laidlaw. I wrote all the morning, then cut some wood. I think the 
weather gets too warm for hard work with the axe, or I get too stiff 
and easily tired. 

April 30. — Went to Jedburgh to circuit, where found my old 
friend and schoolfellow, T>. Monypenny.' Nothing to-day but a pack 
of riff-raff cases of petty larceny and trash. Dined as usual with the 
Judge, and slept at my old friend Mr. Shortreed's. 

1 This refers to the Miscellaneous Prose pp. 247-296, forming a supplement to John Bal- 
Works, forming 24 vols., the publication of lantyne's Biographical Notice of Defoe in the 
which did not commence until May, 1834, al- same volume. The "Essay on Border Antiqui- 
though, as is shown by the Journal, the author ties" appeared, notwithstanding Scott's mis- 
was busy in its preparation. The "criticism givings, in the seventh volume, 
on Defoe " will be found in the fourth volume, 2 Lord Pitmilly.— See ante, p. 79. 



MAY 

May 1. — Brought Andrew Shortreed to copy some things I want. 
Maxpopple came with us as far as Lessudden, and we stopped and 
made a pilgrimage to Fair Maiden Lilliard's Stone, which has been 
restored lately, to the credit of Mr. Walker of Muirhouselaw.^ Set 
my young clerk to work when we came home, and did some labori- 
ous business. A letter from Sir Thomas Lawrence informed me I am 
chosen Professor of Antiquities to the Royal Academy — a beautiful 
professor to be sure ! 

May 2. — Did nothing but proofs this morning. At ten went to 
Selkirk to arrange about the new measures, which, like all new things, 
will throw us into confusion for a little at least. The weather was so 
exquisitely good that I walked after tea to half-past eight, and en- 
joyed a sort of half-lazy, half-^ulky humour — like Caliban's, " There's 
wood enough within." ' Well, I may be the bear, but I must mount 
the ragged staff all the same. I set myself to labour for R. P. G.' 
The Germanic Horrors are my theme, and I think something may be 
yet made of them. 

May 3. — An early visit from Mr. Thomas Stewart, nephew of 
Duchess of Wellington, with a letter from his aunt. He seems a 
well-behaved and pleasant young man. I walked him through the 
Glen. Colonel Ferguson came to help us out at dinner, and then we 
had our wine and wassail. 

May 4. — Corrected proofs in the morning. Mr. Stewart still 
here, which prevented work; however, I am far beforehand with 
everything. We walked a good deal ; asked Mr. Alexander Pringle, 
Whytbank, to dinner. This is rather losing time, though. 

May 5. — Worked away upon those wild affairs of Hoffmann 
for Gillies. I think I have forgot my German very much, and then 
the stream of criticism does not come freely at all : I cannot tell why. 
I gave it up in despair at half -past one, and walked out. 

1 The rude inscription on the stone placed ri<ew, regarding which Mr. Lockhart says: — "It 

over the grave of this Border amazon, slain at had then been newly started under the Editor- 

Ancrum Moor, a.d. 1545, ran thus— ship of Mr. R. P. Gillies. This article, it is prop- 

« Fair maiden Liliiard lies under this stane, e^ ^o Observe, was a benefaction to Mr Gillies, 

Little was her stature but great was her fame, whose pecuniary affairs rendered such assist- 

Upon the English louns she laid many thumps, ance very desirable. Scott's generosity in this 

And when her legs were cuttet oflf she fought upon her matter— for it was exactly giving a poor broth- 

^'"■"P^-" er author £100 at the expense of considerable 

See New Stat. Account Scot, "Roxburgh," p. time and drudgery to himself— I think it nec- 

244. essary to mention ; the date of the exertion re- 

3 Tempest, Act i. Sc. 2. quires it of me."-rLife, vol. ix. pp. 72-3 j see 

3 An article for the Foreign Quarterly Re- Misc. Prose Works, vol. xviii. p. 270. 



May, 1827.] JOURNAL 255 

Had a letter from R. P. Gr. He seems in spirits about his work. 
I wish it may answer. Under good encouragement it certainly 
might. But 

Maxpopple came to dinner, and Mr. Laidlaw after dinner, so 
that broke up the day, which I can ill spare. Mr. Stewart left us 
this day. 

May 6. — Wrought again at Hoffmann — unfructuously I fear — 
unwillingly I am certain ; but how else can I do a little good in my 
generation ? I will try a walk. I would fain catch myself in good- 
humour with my task, but that will not be easy. 

May 7. — Finished Hoffmann, talis qualis. I don't like it ; but 
then' I have been often displeased with things that have proved suc- 
cessful. Our own labours become disgusting in our eyes, from the 
ideas having been turned over and over in our own minds. To others, 
to whom they are presented for the first time, they have a show of 
novelty. God grant it may prove so. I would help the poor fellow 
if I could, for I am poor myself. 

May 8. — Corrected Hoffmann with a view to send him off, which, 
however, I could not accomplish. I finished a criticism on Defoe's 
Writings.^ His great forte is his power of vraisemhlance. This I 
have instanced in the story of Mrs. Yeal's Ghost. Ettrick Shepherd 
arrived. 

May 9. — This day we went to dinner at Mr. Scrope's, at the Pa- 
vilion, where were the Haigs of Bemerside, Isaac Haig, Mr. and Mrs. 
Bainbridge, etc. Warm dispute whether par are or are not salmon 
trout. " Fleas are not lobsters, d — n their souls." 

Mr. Scrope has made a painting of Tivoli, which, when mellowed 
a little by time, will be a fine one. Letters from Lockhart, with news 
concerning the beautiful mess they are making in London. Henry 
Scott will be threatened in Roxburghshire. This would be bad 
policy, as it would drive the young Duke to take up his ground, 
which, unless pressed, he may be in no hurry to do. Personally, I 
do not like to be driven to a point, as I think Canning may do much 
for the country, provided he does not stand committed to his new 
Whig counsellors. But if the push does come, I will not quit my old 
friends — that I am freely resolved, and dissolutely, as Slender says.* 

May 10. — We went to breakfast at Huntly Burn, and I wandered 
all the morning in the woods to avoid an English party who came to 
see the house. When I came home I found my cousin Col. Russell, 
and his sister, so I had no work to-day but my labour at proofs in the 
morning. To-day I dismiss my aide-de-camp, Shortreed — a fine lad. 
The Boar of the Forest left us after breakfast. Had a present of a 
medal forming one of a series from Chantrey's busts. But this is 
not for nothing: the donor wants a motto for the reverse of the 
King's medal. I am a bad hand to apply to. 

1 See note 1, p. 253, a Merry Wives, Act i, Sc. I. 



256 JOURNAL [May 

May 11. — Hogg called this morning to converse about trying to 
get him on the pecuniary list of the Royal Literary Society. Cer- 
tainly he deserves it, if genius and necessity could do so. But I do 
not belong to the society, nor do I propose to enter it as a coadjutor. 
I don't like your royal academies of this kind ; they almost always 
fall into jobs, and the members are seldom those who do credit to the 
literature of a country. It affected, too, to comprehend those men of 
letters who are specially attached to the Crown, and though I love and 
honour my King as much as any of them can, yet I hold it best, in 
this free country, to preserve the exterior of independence, that my 
loyalty may be the more impressive, and tell more effectually. Yet I 
wish sincerely to help poor Hogg, and have written to Lockhart 
about it. It may be my own desolate feelings — it may be the appre- 
hension of evil from this political hocus-pocus, but I have seldom felt 
more moody and uncomfortable than while writing these lines. I 
have walked, too, but without effect. W. Laidlaw, whose very ingen- 
ious mind is delighted with all novelties, talked nonsense about the 
new government, in which men are to resign principle, I fear, on both 
sides. 

May 12. — Wrote Lockhart on what I think the upright and hon- 
est principle, and am resolved to vex myself no more about it. 
Walked with my cousin. Colonel Russell, for three hours in the 
woods, and enjoyed the sublime and delectable pleasure of being well, 
— and listened to on the subject of my favourite themes of laying out 
ground and plantation. Russell seems quite to follow such an excel- 
lent authority, and my spirits mounted while I found I was harang- 
uing to a willing and patient pupil. To be sure, Ashestiel, planting 
the high knolls, and drawing woodland through the pasture, could be 
made one of the most beautiful forest things in the world. I have 
often dreamed of putting it in high order ; and, judging from what I 
have been able to do here, I think I should have succeeded. At any 
rate, my blue devils are flown at the sense of retaining some sort of 
consequence. Lord, what fools we are ! 

May 13. — A most idle and dissipated day. I did not rise till 
half-past eight o'clock. Col. and Capt. Ferguson came to breakfast. 
I walked half-way home with them, then turned back and spent the 
day, which was delightful, wandering from place to place in the woods, 
sometimes reading the new and interesting volumes of Cyril Thorn- 
ton,^ sometimes chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy which 
strangely alternated in my mind, idly stirred by the succession of a 
thousand vague thoughts and fears, the gay thoughts strangely min- 
gled with those of dismal melancholy ; tears, which seemed ready to 
flow unbidden ; smiles, which approached to those of insanity ; all 
that wild variety of mood which solitude engenders. I scribbled 

1 The Youth and Manhood of Cyril Thornton, by Captain Thomas Hamilton, had just been pub- 
lished anonymously. 



1827.] JOURNAL 257 

some verses, or rather composed them in my memory. The contrast 
at leaving Abbotsf ord to former departures is of an agitating and vio- 
lent description. Assorting papers and so forth. I never could 
help admiring the concatenation between Ahitophel's setting his 
house in order and hanging himself. The one seems to me to follow 
the other as a matter of course. I don't mind the trouble, though 
my head swims with it. I do not mind meeting accounts, which un- 
paid remind you of your distress, or paid serve to show you you have 
been throwing away money you would be glad to have back again. I 
do not mind the strange contradictory mode of papers hiding them- 
selves that you wish to see, and others thrusting themselves into 
your hand to confuse and bewilder you. There is a clergyman's let- 
ter about the Scottish pronunciation, to which I had written an an- 
swer some weeks since (the parson is an ass, by the by). But I had 
laid aside my answer, being unable to find the letter which bore his 
address ; and, in the course of this day, both his letter with the ad- 
dress, and my answer which wanted the address, fell into my hands 
half-a-dozen times, but separately always. This was the positive mal- 
ice of some hobgoblin, and I submit to it as such. But what fright- 
ens and disgusts me is those fearful letters from those who have been 
long dead, to those who linger on their wayfare through this valley of 
tears. These fine lines of Spencer came into my head — 

" When midnight o'er the pathless skies." ' 

Ay, and can I forget the author ! — the frightful moral of his own vis- 
ion. What is this world? A dream within a dream — as we grow 
older each step is an awakening. The youth awakes as he tMnks 
from childhood — the full-grown man despises the pursuits of youth 
as visionary — the old man looks on manhood as a feverish dream. 
The Grave the last sleep ? — no ; it is the last and final awakening. 

May 14. — To town per Blucher coach, well stowed and crushed, 
but saved cash, coming oS. for less than £2 ; posting costs nearly five, 
and you don't get on so fast by one-third. Arrived in my old lodg- 
ings here with a stouter heart than I expected. Dined with Mr. and 
Mrs. Skene, and met Lord Medwyn and lady. 

May 15. — Parliament House a queer sight. Looked as if people 
were singing to each other the noble song of *' The sky's falling — 
chickie diddle." Thinks I to myself, I'll keep a calm sough. 

^ Mr. Lockhart adds the following lines: — 1811, p. 68.) "The best writer offers de iocieU 

" The shade of youthful hope is there, '"^ ^"'^ ""^6' ^^^ One of the most charming of 

That lingered long, and latest died ; Companions, was exactly Sir Walter's contem- 

Ambitioni all dissolved to air, porary, and, like him, first attracted notice by a 

With phantom honours by his side. version of BQrger's Lenore. Like him, too, 

" What empty shadows glimmernisjh ? tbis remarkable man fell into pecuniary dis- 

They once were friendship, truth, and love ! tress in the disastrous year 1825, and he was 

Oh, die t« thought, to memory die, now (1826) an involuntary resident in Paris, 

smce lifeless to my heart ye prove." ^l^g^e he died in October, 1834, anno (Btai. 65. " 

(Poems by the Hon. W. K Spencer, London, — j. g. l. 

17 



258 JOURNAL [May 

" Betwixt both sides I unconcerned stand by ; 
Hurt, can I laugh, and honest, need I cry?" 

I wish the old Government had kept together, but their personal 
dislike to Canning seems to have rendered that impossible. 

I dined at a great dinner given by Sir George Clerk to his elec- 
tors, the freeholders of Midlothian ; a great attendance of Whig and 
Tory, huzzaing each other's toasts, i/ is a good peacemaker, but quar- 
ter-day is a better. I have a guess the best gamecocks would call a 
truce if a handful or two of oats were scattered among them. 

May 16. — Mr. John Gibson says the Trustees are to allow my ex- 
pense in travelling — £300, with £50 taken in in Longman's bill. This 
wi]l place me rectus in curia, and not much more, faith ! 

There is a fellow bawling out a ditty in the street, the burthen of 
which is 

" There's nothing but poverty everywhere." 

He shall not be a penny richer for telling me what I know but too 
well without him. 

May 17. — Learned with great distress the death of poor Richard 
Lockhart, the youngest brother of my son-in-law. He had an exquis- 
ite talent for acquiring languages, and was under the patronage of my 
kinsman, George Swinton, who had taken him into his own family at 
Calcutta, and now he is drowned in a foolish bathing party. 

May 1 8. — Heard from Abbotsf ord ; all well. Wrought to-day but 
awkwardly. Tom Campbell called, warm from his Glasgow Rector- 
ship ; he is looking very well. He seemed surprised that I did not 
know anything about the contentions of Tories, Whigs, and Radicals, 
in the great commercial city. I have other eggs on the spit. He 
stayed but a few minutes.^ 

May 19. — Went out to-day to Sir John Dairy mple's,'' at Oxenford, 
a pretty place ; the lady a daughter of Lord Duncan. Will Clerk and 
Robert Graeme went with me. A good dinner and pleasant enough 
party ; but ten miles going and ten miles coming make twenty, and 
that is something of a journey. Got a headache too by jolting about 
after dinner. 

May 20. — Wrote a good deal at Appendix [to Bonaparte], or per- 
haps I should say tried to write. Got myself into a fever when I had 

1 The fbllowing note to Mr. and Mrs. Skene shoulders, and am obliged to deprive myself of 

belongs to this day: — the pleasure of waiting upon you to-day to din- 

My dear Friends,— I am just returned from ner, to my great mortification— Always yours, 
Court dreeping like the Water Kelpy when he Walter Scott. 

had finished the Laird of Morphey's Bridge, Walker STBKEr, 

and am, like that ill-used drudge disposed to Friday, ^6th May 1827. 

^'°^~ sair back and sairMnes.i —Skene's Reminiscences. 

In fact I have the rheumatism in head and 2 Afterwards (in 1840) eighth Earl of Stair. 

1 Sair back and sair banes 

Carrying the Lord of Morphey's stanes. 

Bordtr Minstrelsy, vol. iii. pp. 360, 366. 



1827.] JOURNAL 259 

finished four pages, and went out at eight o'clock at night to cool my- 
self if possible. Walked with difficulty as far as Skene's/ and there 
sat and got out of my fidgety feeling. Learned that the Princes Street 
people intend to present me with the key of their gardens, which will 
be a great treat, as I am too tender-hoofed for the stones. We must 
now get to work in earnest. 

May 21. — Accordingly this day I wrought tightly, and though not 
in my very best mood I got on in a very business-like manner. Was 
at the Gas Council, where I found things getting poorly on. The 
Treasury have remitted us to the Exchequer. The Committee want 
me to make private interest with the L. C. Baron. That I won't do, 
but I will state their cause publicly any way they like. 

May 22. — At Court — home by two, walking through the Princes 
Street Gardens for the first time. Called on Mrs. Jobson. Worked 
two hours. Must dress to dine at Mr. John Borthwick's, with the 
young folk^ now Mr. and Mrs. Dempster.'^ Kindly and affectionately 
received by my good young friends, who seem to have succeeded to 
their parents' regard for me. 

May 23. — Got some books, etc., which I wanted to make up the 
Saint Helena affair. Set about making up the Appendix, but found 
I had mislaid a number of the said postliminary affair. Had Hogg's 
nephew here as a transcriber, a modest and well-behaved young man 
— clever, too, I think. ^ Being Teind Wednesday I was not obliged 
to go to the Court, and am now bang up, and shall soon finish Mr. 
Nappy. And how then ? Ay, marry, sir, that's the question. 



"Lord, what will all the people say, 
Mr. Mayor, Mr. Mayor !" 



" The fires i' the lowest hell fold in the people !" * as Coriolanus says. 
I live not in their report, I hope. 

May 24. — Mr. Gibson paid me £70 more of my London journey. 
A good thought came into my head : to write stories for little John- 
nie Lockhart from the History of Scotland, like those taken from the 
History of England. I will not write mine quite so simply as Croker 
has done. I am persuaded both children and the lower class of read- 
ers hate books which are written down to their capacity, and love those 
that are more composed for their elders and betters. I will make, if 
possible, a book that a child will understand, yet a man will feel some 
temptation to peruse should he chance to take it up. It will require, 
however, a simplicity of style not quite my own. The grand and in- 

1 126 Princes Street. and whicli she never forgot, nor Sir Walter's 

2 George Dempster of Skibo had jusl mar- talk as he sat next her at table, and with un- 
ried a daughter of the House of Arniston. This feigned kindness devoted himself to her enter- 
lady has had the singular gratiflcation of listen- tainment. 

ing to these pleasant impressions of a dinner ^ Sec Life, vol. Ix. 114. 

party given in her honour sixty-two years ago, * Coriolanus, Act ni. Sc. 3. 



260 JOURNAL [May 

teresting consists in ideas, not in words. A clever thing of this kind 
will have a run — 

"Little to say, 
But wrought away, 
And went out to dine with the Skenes to-day." 

Rather too many dinner engagements on my list. Must be hard-heart- 
ed. I cannot say I like my solitary days the worst by any means. I 
dine, when I like, on soup or broth, and drink a glass of porter or 
ginger-beer ; a single tumbler of whisky and water concludes the de- 
bauch. This agrees with me charmingly. At ten o'clock bread and 
cheese, a single draught of small beer, porter, or ginger-beer, and to 
bed. 

May 26. — I went the same dull and weary round out to the Par- 
liament House, which bothers one's brains for the day. Neverthe- 
less, I get on. Pages vanish from under my hand, and find their 
v/ay to J. Ballantyne, who is grinding away with his presses. I think 
I may say, now I begin to get rid of the dust raised about me by so 
many puzzling little facts, that it is plain sailing to the end. 

Dined at Skene's with George Forbes and lady. But that was 
yesterday. 

May 27. — I got ducked in coming home from the Court. Na- 
boclish ! — I thank thee, Pat, for teaching me the word. Made a hard 
day of it. Scarce stirred from one room to another, but at bed-time 
finished a handsome handful of copy. I have quoted Gourgaud's 
evidence ; I suppose he will be in a rare passion, and may be addicted 
to vengeance, like a long-moustached son of a French bitch as he is. 
Naboclish ! again for that. 

" Frenchman, Devil, or Don, 
Damn him, let him come on, 
He sha'n't scare a son of the Island."^ 

May 28. — Another day of uninterrupted study ; two such would 
finish the work with a murrain. I have several engagements next 
week ; I wonder how I was such a fool as to take them. I think I 
shall be done, however, before Saturday. What shall I have to think 
of when I lie down at night and awake in the morning ? What will 
be my plague and my pastime, my curse and my blessing, as ideas 
come and the pulse rises, or as they flag and something like a snow 
haze covers my whole imagination ? I have my Highland Tales — 
and then — never mind, sufficient for the day is the evil thereof. 

May 29. — Detained at the House till near three. Made a call on 
Mrs. Jobson and others ; also went down to the printing-office. I 
hope James Ballantyne will do well. I think and believe he will. 
Wrought in the evening. 

1 Sir Walter varies a verse of The tigld little Island.— 3. G. l. 



1827.] JOURNAL 261 

May 30. — Having but a trifle on the roll to-day, I set hard to 
work, and brought myself in for a holiday, or rather played truant. 
At two o'clock went to a Mr. Mackenzie in my old house at Castle 
Street, to have some touches given to Walker's print. ^ Afterwards, 
having young Hogg with me as an amanuensis, I took to the oar till 
near ten o'clock.^ 

May 31. — Being a Court day I was engaged very late. Then I 
called at the printing - house, but got no exact calculation how we 
come on. Met Mr. Cadell, who bids, as the author's copy [money] 
Is. profit on each book of Hugh Littlejohn, I thought this too little. 
My general calculation is on such profits, that, supposing the book to 
sell to the public for 7s. 6d., the price ought to go in three shares — 
one to the trade, one to the expense of print and paper, and one to 
the author and publisher between them, which of course would be 
Is. 3d., not Is. to the author. But in stating this rule I omitted to 
observe that books for young persons are half bound before they go 
out into the trade. This comes to about 9d. for two volumes. The 
allowance to the trade is also heavy, so that Is. a book is very well 
on great numbers. There may besides be a third volume. 

Dined at James Ballantyne's, and heard his brother Sandy sing 
and play on the violin, beautifully as usual. James himself sang the 
Reel of Tullochgorum, with hearty cheer and uplifted voice. When 
I came home I learned that we had beat the Coal Gas Company, which 
is a sort of triumph. 

1 The engraving from Raeburn's picture. — liarity in Scott's dictation, that with the great- 
See ante, p. 138. est ease he was able to carry on two trains of 

2 Mr. Robert Hogg relates that during these thought at one time, "one of which was al- 
few days Sir W. aud he laboured from six in ready arranged, and in the act of being spoken, 
the morning till the same hour in the evening, while at the same time he was in advance con- 
with the exception of the intervals allowed for sidering what was afterwards to be said. " — See 
breakfast and lunch, which were served in the his interesting letter to Mr. Lockhart, Life, vol. 
room to save time. He noted a striking pecu- ix. pp. 115-117. 



JUNE 

June 1. — Settled my liouseliold-boolv. Sophia does not set out 
till the middle of the week, which is unlucky, our antiquarian skir- 
mish beginning* in Fife just about the time she is to arrive. Letter 
from John touching public affairs ; don't half like them, and am afraid 
we shall have the Whig alliance turn out like the calling in of the 
Saxons. I told this to Jeffrey, who said they would convert us, as 
the Saxons did the British. I shall die in my Paganism for one. I 
don't like a bone of them as a party. Ugly reports of the King's 
health ; God pity this poor country should that be so, but I think it 
a thing devised by the enemy. Anne arrived from Abbotsford. I 
dined at Sir Robert Dundas's, with Mrs. Dundas, Arniston, and other 
friends. Worked a little, not much. 

June 2. — Do. Do. Dined at Baron Hume's. These dinners are 
cruelly in the way, but que faut-il f aire ? the business of the Court 
must be done, and it is impossible absolutely to break off all habits 
of visiting. Besides, the correcting of proof-sheets in itself is now 
become burdensome. Three or four a day is hard work. 

June 3. — Wrought hard. I think I have but a trifle more to do, 
but new things cast up ; we get beyond the life, however, for I have 
killed him to-day. The newspapers are very saucy ; The Sun says 
I have got £4000 for suffering a Frenchman to look over my manu- 
script. Here is a proper fellow for you ! I wonder what he thinks 
Frenchmen are made of — walking money-bags, doubtless. Now as 
Sir Fretful Plagiary^ says, another man would be mad at this, but I 
care not one brass farthing. 

June 4. — The birthday of our good old king. It was wrong not 
to keep up the thing as it was of yore with dinners, and claret, and 
squibs, and crackers, and saturnalia. The thoughts of the subjects 
require sometimes to be turned to the sovereign, were it but only that 
they may remember there is such a person. 

The Bannatyne edition of Melville's Memoirs is out, and beats all 
print. Gad, it is a fine institution that ; a rare one, by Jove ! beats 
the Roxburghe. Wrought very bobbishly to-day, but went off at 
dinner-time to Thomas Thomson, where we had good cheer and good 
fun. By the way, we have lost our Coal Gas Bill. Sorry for it, but 
I can't cry. 

June 5. — Proofs. Parliament House till two. Commenced the 

J Sheridan's Critic, Act i Sc. 1. 



June, 182'7.] JOURNAL 263 

character of Bonaparte. To-morrow being a Teind-day I will hope 
to get it finished. Meantime I go out to-night to see Frankenstein at 
the theatre. 

June 6. — Frankenstein is entertaining for once — considerable art 
in the man that plays the Monster, to whom he gave great effect. 
Cooper is his name ; played excellently in the farce too, as a sailor 
— a more natural one, I think, than my old friend Jack Bannister, 
though he has not quite Jack's richness of humour. I had seven 
proof-sheets to correct this morning, by Goles. So I did not get to 
composition till nine ; work on with little interruption (save that Mr. 
Verplanck, an American, breakfasted with us) until seven, and then 
walked, for fear of the black dog or devil that worries me when I 
work too hard. 

June 7. — This morning finished Boney. And now, as Dame 
Fortune says, in Quevedo's Visions, Go, wheel, and the devil drive thee} 
It was high time I brought up some reinforcements, for my pound 
was come to half-crowns, and I had nothing to keep house when the 
Lockharts come. Credit enough to be sure, but I have been taught 
by experience to make short reckonings. Some great authors now 
will think it a degradation to write a child's book ; I cannot say I feel 
it such. It is to be inscribed to my grandson, and I will write it not 
only without a sense of its being infra dig. but with a grandfather's 
pleasure. 

I arranged with Mr. Cadell for the property of Tales of a Grand- 
father, 10,000 copies for £787, 10s. 

June 8. — A Mr. Maywood, much protected by poor Alister Dhu, 
brought me a letter from the late Colonel Huxley. His connection 
and approach to me is through the grave, but I will not be the less 
disposed to assist him if an opportunity offers. I made a long round 
to-day, going to David Laing's about forwarding the books of the 
Bannatyne Club to Sir George Rose and Duke of Buckingham. Then 
I came round by the printing-office, where the presses are groaning 
upon Napoleon, and so home through the gardens. I have done little 
to-day save writing a letter or two, for 1 was fatigued and sleepy 
when I got home, and nodded, I think, over Sir James Melville's Me- 
moirs. I will do something, though, when I have dined. By the 
way, I corrected the proofs for G-illies ; they read better than I look- 
ed for. 

June 9. — Corrected proofs in the morning. When I came home 
from Court I found that John Lockhart and Sophia were arrived by 
the steam-boat at Portobello, where they have a small lodging. I 
went down with a bottle of Champagne, and a flask of Maraschino, 
and made buirdly cheer with them for the rest of the day. Had the 

1 "No sooner had the Sun uttered these sion. Fortune gave a mighty squeak, saying, 

words than Fortune, as if she had been play- 'Fly, wheel, and the devil drive thee.'"— 

ing on a cymbal^ began to unwind her wheel. Fortune in her Wits^ Quevedo. English trans, 

which, whirling about like a hurricane, hud- (1798), vol. ill. p. 107. 
died all the world into an unparalleled confu- 



264 JOURNAL [June 

great pleasure to find tliein all in higli health. Poor Johnny is de- 
cidedly improved in his general health, and the injury on the spine 
is got no worse. Walter is a very fine child. 

June 10. — Rose with the odd consciousness of being free of my 
daily task. I have heard that the fish-women go to church of a 
Sunday with their creels new washed, and a few stones in them for 
ballast, just because they cannot walk steadily without their usual 
load. I feel somewhat like this, and rather inclined to pick up some 
light task, than to be altogether idle. I have my proof-sheets, to be 
sure ; but what are these to a whole day ? Fortunately my thoughts 
are agreeable ; cash difficulties, etc., all provided for, as far as I can 
see, so that we go on hooly and fairly. Betwixt and August 1st I 
should receive £750, and I cannot think I have more than the half 
of it to pay away. Cash, to be sure, seems to burn in my pocket. 
*' He wasna gien to great misguiding, but coin his poaches wouldna 
bide in." ' By goles, this shall be corrected, though ! Lockhart gives 
a sad account of Gillies's imprudences. Lockhart dined with us. Day 
idle. 

June 11. — The attendance on the Committee, and afterwards the 
general meeting of the Oil Gas Company took up my morning, and 
the rest dribbled away in correcting proofs and trifling ; reading, 
among the rest, an odd volume of Vivian Grey f clever, but not so 
much so as to make me, in this sultry weather, go up-stairs to the 
drawing-room to seek the other volumes. Ah ! villain, but you smoked 
when you read. — Well, Madam, perhaps I think the better of the book 
for that reason. Made a blunder, — went to Ravelston on the wrong 
day. This Anne's fault, but I did not reproach her, knowing it might 
as well have been my own. 

June 12. — At Court, a long hearing. G-ot home only about three. 
Corrected proofs, etc. Dined with Baron Clerk, and met several old 
friends ; Will Clerk in particular. 

June 13. — Another long seat at Court. Almost overcome by the 
heat in walking home, and rendered useless for the day. Let me be 
thankful, however ; my lameness is much better, and the nerves of 
my unfortunate ankle are so much strengthened that I walk with 
comparatively little pain. Dined at John Swinton's ; a large party. 
These festive occasions consume much valuable time, besides trying 
the stomach a little by late hours, and some wine shed, though that's 
not much. 

June 14. — Anne and Sophia dined. Could not stay at home 
with them alone. AYe had the Skenes and Allan, and amused our- 
selves till ten o'clock. 

June 15. — This being the day long since appointed for our cruise 
to Fife, Thomas Thomson, Sir A. Ferguson, Will Clerk, and I, set off 



1 Burns: "On a Scotch Bard, gone to the 2 Vivian Grey, by Beryamin Disraeli, was 
West Indies." published anonymously in 5 vols. 12mo, 1826-7. 



1827.] JOtTRNAL 265 

with Miss Adam, and made our journey successfully to Charlton, 
where met Lord Chief -Baron and Lord Chief -Commissioner, all in the 
humour to be happy, though time is telling with us all. Our good- 
natured host, Mr. A. Thomson, his wife, and his good-looking daugh- 
ters, received us most kindly, and the conversation took its old roll, 
in spite of woes and infirmities. Charlton is a good house, in the 
midst of highly - cultivated land, and immediately surrounded with 
gardens and parterres, together with plantations, partly in the old, 
partly in the new, taste ; I like it very much ; though, as a residence, 
it is perhaps a little too much finished. Not even a bit of bog to 
amuse one, as Mr. Elphinstone said. 

June 1 6. — This day we went off in a body to St. Andrews, which 
Thomas Thomson had never seen. On the road beyond Charlton 
saw a small cottage said to have been the heritable appanage of a 
family called the Keays [?]. He had a right to feed his horse for a 
certain time on the adjoining pasture. This functionary was sent to 
Falkland with the fish for the royal table. The ruins at St. Andrews 
have been lately cleared out. They had been chiefly magnificent 
from their siz6 — not their extent of ornament. I did not go up to 
St. Rule's Tower as on former occasions ; this is a falling off, for when 
before did I remain sitting below when there was a steeple to be as- 
cended? But the rheumatism has begun to change that vein for 
some time past, though I think this is the first decided sign of acqui- 
escence in my lot. I sat down on a grave-stone, and recollected the 
first visit I made to St. Andrews, now thirty-four years ago. What 
changes in my feeling and my fortune have since then taken place ! 
some for the better, many for the worse. I remembered the name I 
then carved in Runic characters on the turf beside the castle-gate, 
and I asked why it should still agitate my heart. But my friends 
came down from the tower, and the foolish idea was chased away.^ 

June 17. — Lounged about while the good family went to church. 
The day is rather cold and disposed to rain. The papers say that 
the Corn Bill is given up in consequence of the Duke of Wellington 
having carried the amendment in the House of Lords. All the party 
here — Sir A. F. perhaps excepted — are Ministerialists on the present 
double bottom. They say the names of Whig and Tory are now to 
exist no longer. Why have they existed at all ? 

In the forenoon we went off to explore the environs ; we visited 
two ancient manor-houses, those of Elie and Balcaskie. Large roomy 
mansions, with good apartments, two or three good portraits, and a 

1 If the reader turns to December 18, 1825, was "Williamina Belches, sole child and heir 

he will see that this is not the first allusion in of a gentleman who was a cadet of the ancient 

the Journal to his "first love," — an innocent family of Invermay, and who afterwards be- 

attachment, to which we owe the tenderest came Sir John Stuart of Fettercairn." She 

pages, not only of Redgauntlet (1824), but of married Sir William Forbes in 1797 and died 

the Lay of the Last Minstrel (1805), and of in 1810. — ir/e, vol. i. p. 333; Shairp's i/emoirs 

Rokeby (1813). In all these works the heroine of Principal Forbes, pp. 4, 5, 8vo, London, 1873, 

has certain distinctive features drawn from where her portrait, engraved from a miniature, 

one and the same haunting dream. The lady is given. 



266 JOURNAL [June 

collection of most extraordinary frights, prodigiously like the mis- 
tresses of King George i., who " came for all the goods and chattels" 
of old England. There are at Elie House two most ferocious-looking 
Ogresses of this cast. There are noble trees about the house. Bal- 
caskie put me in mind of poor Philip Anstruther, dead and gone 
many a long year since. He was a fine, gallant, light-hearted young 
sailor. I remember the story of his drawing on his father for some 
cash, which produced an angry letter from old Sir Robert, to which 
Philip replied, that if he did not know how to write like a gentleman, 
he did not desire any more of his correspondence. Balcaskie is much 
dilapidated ; but they are restoring the house in the good old style, 
with its terraces and yew-hedges. The beastly fashion of bringing a 
bare ill-kept park up to your very doors seems going down. We next 
visited with great pleasure the Church of St. Monans, which is under 
repair, designed to correspond strictly with the ancient plan, which is 
the solid, gloomy, but impressive Gothic. It was built by David ii., 
in the fulfilment of a vow made to St. Monan on the field of battle at 
Neville's Cross. One would have judged the king to be thankful for 
small mercies, for certainly St. Monan proved but an inefEective patron. 

Mr. Hugh Cleghorn^ dined at Charlton, and I saw him for the 
first time, having heard of him all my life. He is an able man, has 
seen much, and speaks well. Age has clawed him in his clutch, and 
he has become deaf. There is also Captain Black of the navy, sec- 
ond lieutenant of the Mars at Trafalgar. Yilleneuve was brought 
on board that ship after the debate. He had no expectation that the 
British fleet would have fought till they had formed a regular line. 
Captain Black disowns the idea of the French and Spaniards being 
drawn up chequer form for resisting the British attack, and imputes 
the appearance of that array to sheer accident of weather. 

June 18. — We visited Wemyss Castle on our return to Kinghorn. 
On the left, before descending to the coast, are considerable remains 
of a castle, called popularly the old castle, or Macdufi's Castle. That 
of the Thane was situated at Kennochquay, at no great distance. The 
front of Wemyss Castle, to the land, has been stripped entirely of its 
castellated appearance, and narrowly escaped a new front. To the 
sea it has a noble situation, overhanging the red rocks; but even there 
the structure has been much modernised and tamed. Interior is a 
good old house, with large oak staircases, family pictures, etc. We 
were received by Captain Wemyss — a gallant sea-captain, who could 
talk against a north-wester, — by his wife Lady Emma, and her sister 
Lady Isabella — beautiful women of the house of Errol, and vindicat- 
ing its title to the handsome Hays. We reached the Pettycur about 
half-past one, crossed to Edinburgh, and so ended our little excur- 

1 Hugh Clegborn had been Professor of Civil raent in various foreign missions. A glimpse 

History in St. Andrews for ten years, after- of his work is obtainable in Southey-s Life of 

wards becoming tutor to the Earl of Home, Dr. Andrew Bell. Mr. Cleghorn died in 1833, 

and subsequently employed by our Govern- aged 83. 



1827.] JOURNAL 267 

sion. Of casualties we had only one : Triton, the house-dog at Charl- 
ton, threw down Thomson and he had his wrist sprained, A restire 
horse threatened to demolish our landau, but we got ofi for the fright. 
Happily L. C. B. was not in our carriage. 

Dined at William M'Kenzie's to meet the Marquis and Marchion- 
ess of Stafford, who are on their road to Dunrobin. Found them 
both very well. 

June 19. — Lord Stafford desires to be a member of the Bannatyne 
Club — also Colin M'Kenzie. Sent both names up accordingly. 

The day furnishes a beggarly record of trumpery. From eight 
o'clock till nine wrote letters, then Parliament House, where I had to 
wait on without anything to do till near two, when rain forced me into 
the Antiquarian museum. Lounged there till a meeting of the Oil 
Gas Committee at three o'clock. There remained till near five. Home 
and smoked a cheroot after dinner. Called on Thomson, who is still 
disabled by his sprain. Pereat inter hcec. We must do better to- 
morrow. 

June 20. — Kept my word, being Teind Wednesday. Two young 
Frenchmen, friends of Gallois, rather interrupted me. I had asked 
them to breakfast, but they stayed till twelve o'clock, which is scarce 
fair, and plagued me with compliments. Their names are Remusat 
and Guyzard.^ Pleasant, good-humoured young men. Notwithstand- 
ing this interruption I finished near six pages, three being a good 
Session-day's work. Allans, vogue la galere. Dined at the Solicitor's 
with Lord Hopetoun, and a Parliament House party. 

June 21. — Finished five leaves — that is, betwixt morning and din- 
ner-time. The Court detained me till two o'clock. About nine leaves 
wdll make the volume quite large enough. 

By the way, the booksellers have taken courage to print up 2000 
more of the first edition [of Napoleon] ; which, after the second vol- 
ume, they curtailed from 8000 to 6000. This will be £1000 more in 
my way, at least, and that is a good help. We dine with the Skenes 
to-day, Lockhart being with us.^ 

1 Count Paul de Remusat has been good La Revue Franoaise, and who, after the Revo- 
enough to give me another view of this visit lution of 1830, entered, as did my father like- 
which will be read with interest:— " 118 Fau- wise, upon political life. M. de Guizard was 

bourg St. Honore, February 10, 1890. — ^vsi prefet^ then depute^ and after 18iS became 

My father has often spoken to me of this visit Directeur- general des Beaux Arts. He died 

to Sir Walter Scott — for it was indeed my fa- about 1877 or 1878, after his retirement from 

ther, Charles de Remusat, member of the public life. 

French Academy, and successively Minister of 2 '-Woodstock placed upwards of £8000 in the 

the Interior and for Foreign Affairs, who went hands of Sir ^Yalter's creditors. The Napoleon 

at the age of thirty to Abbotsford, and he re- (first and second editions) produced tor them a 

tained to the last days of his life a most lively sum which it even now startles me to mention 

remembrance of the great novelist who did not —£18,000. As by the time the historical work 

acknowledge the authorship of his novels, and was published nearly half of the First Series of 

to whom it was thus impossible otherwise than Chronicles of the Canongate had been written, 

indirectly to pay any compliment. It gives mo it is obvious that the amount to which Scott's 

great pleasure to learn that the visit of those literary industrj', from the close of 1825 to the 

young men impressed him favourably. My fa- 10th of June, 1827, had diminished his debt, 

ther's companion was his contemporary and cannot be stated at less than £28,000. Had 

friend, M. Louis de Guizard, who, like my fa- health been spared him, how soon must he 

ther, was a contributor at that time to the Lib- have freed himself from all his encumbrances." 

eral press of the Restoration, the Globe and — j. g. l. 



268 



JOURNAL 



[June 



June 22. — "Wrought in the morning as usual. Received to break- 
fast Dr. Bishop, a brother of Bishop the composer. He tells me his 
brother was very ill when he wrote "The Chough and Crow," and 
other music for Guy Mannering. Singular ! but I do think illness, if 
not too painful, unseals the mental eye, and renders the talents more 
acute, in the study of the fine arts at least. ^ 

I find the difference on 2000 additional copies will be £3000 in- 
stead of £1000 in favour of the author. My good friend Publicum 
is impatient. Heaven grant his expectations be not disappointed. 
Coragio, andiamos ! Such another year of labour and success would 
do much towards making me a free man of the forest. But I must 
to work since we have to dine with Lord and Lady Gray. By the 
way, I forgot an engagement to my old friend. Lord Justice-Clerk. 
This is shockingly ill-bred. But the invitation was a month old, and 
that is some defence. 

June 23. — I corrected proofs and played the grandfather in the 
morning. After Court saw Lady Wedderburn, who asked my advice 



» See it/e, vol. vi. p. 89. In Mr. Ballantyne's 
Memorandum, there is a fuller account of the 
mode in which The Bride ofLammerraoor, The 
Legend of Montrose, and almost the whole of 
Ivanhoe were produced, and the mental phe- 
nomenon which accompanied the preparation 
of the first-named work: — 

"During the progress of composing The 
Heart of Midlothian, The Bride of Lammer- 
moor, and Legend of Montrose — a period of 
many months — ilr. Scott's health had become 
extremely indifferent, and was often supposed 
to place him in great danger. But it would 
hardly be credited, were it not for the noto- 
riety of the fact, that although one of the 
symptoms of his illness was pain of the most 
acute description, yet he never allowed it to 
interrupt his labours. The only difference it 
produced, that I am aware of, was its causing 
him to employ the hand of an amanuensis in 
place of his own. Indeed, during the greater 
part of the day at this period he was confined 
to his bed. The person employed for this pur- 
pose was the respectable and intelligent Mr. 
Wm. Laidlaw, who acted for him in this ca- 
pacity in the country, and I think also attend- 
ed him to town. I have often been present 
with Mr. Laidlaw during the short intervals of 
his labour, and it was deeply affecting to hear 
the account he gave of his patron's severe suf- 
ferings, and the indomitable spirit which ena- 
bled him to overmaster them. He told me 
that very often the dictation of Caleb Balder- 
ston's and the old cooper's best jokes was min- 
gled with groans extorted from him by pains; 
but that when he, Mr. L., endeavoured to pre- 
vail upon him to take a little respite, the only 
answer he could obtain from Mr. Scott was a 
request that he would see that the doors were 
carefully shut, so that the expressions of his 
agony might not reach his family — ' As to stop- 
ping work, Laidlaw,' he said, 'you know that 
is wholly out of the question. ' What followed 
upon these exertions, made in circumstances 
so very singular, api'cars to me to exhibit one 



of the most singular chapters in the history of 
the human intellect. The book having been 
published before Mr. Scott was able to rise from 
his bed, he assured me that, when it was put 
Into his hands, he did not recollect one single 
incident, character, or conversation it contain- 
ed. He by no means desired me to under- 
stand, nor did I understand, that his illness 
had erased from his memory all or any of the 
original family facts with which he had been 
acquainted from the period probably of his 
boyhood. These of course remained rooted 
where they had ever been, or, to speak more 
explicitly, where explicitness is so entirely im- 
portant, he remembered the existence of the 
father and mother, the son and daughter, the 
rival lovers, the compulsory marriage, and the 
attack made by his bride upon the unhappy 
bridegroom, with the general catastrophe of 
the whole. All these things he recollected, 
just as he did before he took to his bed, but 
the marvel is that he recollected literally noth- 
ing else — not a single character woven by the 
Romancer — not one of the many scenes and 
points of exquisite humour, nor anything with 
which he was connected as writer of the work. 
' For a long time I felt myself very uneasy,' he 
said, ' in the course of my reading, always kept 
on the qui vive lest I should be startled by 
something altogether glaring and fantastic ; 
however, I recollected that the printing had 
been performed by James Ballantyne, who I 
was sure would not have permitted anything 
of this sort to pass. ' 'Well,' I said, ' upon the 
whole, how did you like it?' 'Oh,' he said, 'I 
felt it monstrous gross and grotesque, to be 
sure, but still the worst of it made me laugh, 
and I trusted therefore the good-natured pub- 
lic would not be less indulgent. ' I do not think 
that I ever ventured to lead to this singular 
subject again. But you may depend upon it, 
that what I have said is as distinctly reported 
as if it had been taken down at the moment in 
shorthand. I should not otherwise have im- 
parted the phenomenon at all."— J/r. Ballan' 
tyne's MSS. 



1827.] JOURNAL 269 

about printing some verses of Mrs. Hemans in honour of the late 
Lord James Murray, who died in Greece. Also Lord Gray, who 
wishes me to write some preliminary matter to his ancestor, the Mas- 
ter of Gray's correspondence. I promised. But ancestor was a great 
rogue, and if I am to write about him at all, I must take my will of 
him. Anne and I dined at home. She went to the play, and I had 
some mind to go too. But Miss Foote was the sole attraction, and 
Miss Foote is only a very pretty woman, and if she played Rosalind 
better than I think she can, it is a bore to see Touchstone and Jacques 
murdered. I have a particular respect for As You Like It. It was 
the first play I ever saw, and that was at Bath in 1*776 or 1777. That 
is not yesterday, yet I remember the piece very well. So I remained 
at home, smoked a cigar, and worked leisurely upon the review of 
the Culloden Papers, which, by dint of vamping and turning, may 
make up the lacking copy for the " Works " better, I think, than that 
lumbering Essay on Border Antiquities. 

June 24. — I don't care who knows it, I was lazy this morning. 
But I cheated my laziness capitally, as you shall hear. My good 
friend, Sir Watt, said I to my esteemed friend, it is hard you should 
be obliged to work when you are so disinclined to it. Were I you, 
I would not be quite idle though. I would do something that you 
are not obliged to do, just as I have seen a cowardly dog willing to 
fight with any one save that which his master would have desired 
him to yoke with. So I went over the review of the Culloden Papers, 
and went a great way to convert it into the Essay on Clanship, etc., 
which I intend for the Prose W^orks. I wish I had thought of it 
before correcting that beastly border essay. Nabochsh ! 

June 25. — Wrote five pages of the Chronicles, and hope to con- 
quer one or two more ere night to fetch up the leeway. Went and 
saw Allan's sketch of a picture for Abbotsford, which is promising ; 
a thing on the plan of Watteau. He intends to introduce some in- 
teresting characters, and some, I suspect, who have little business 
there. Yesterday I dined with the Lockharts at Portobello.^ To-day 
at home with Anne and Miss Erskine. They are gone to walk. I 
have a mind to go to trifle, so I do not promise to write more to-night, 
having begun the dedication (advertisement I mean) to the Chroni- 
cles. I have pleasant subjects of reflection. The fund in Gibson's 
hands will approach £40,000, I think. 

Lord Melville writes desiring to be a candidate for the Bannatyne 
Club. 

I made a balance of my affairs, and stuck it into my book: it 
should answer very well, but still 

» Mr. Lockhart says: — "My wife and I spent day he came down and dined there, and stroU- 
the summer of 1827 partly at a sea -bathing ed about afterwards on the beach, thus inter- 
place near Edinburgh, and partly in Roxburgh- rupting, beneficially for his health, and I doubt 
shire. The arrival of his daughter and her chil- not for the result "of his labours also, the new 
dren at Portobelto was a source of constant re- custom of regular night-work, or, as tie called 
fresliment to him during June, for every other it, serving double tides," 



270 JOUKNAL [June 

"I am not given to great misguiding, 
But coin my pouches will na bide in, 
With me it ne'er was under hiding, 
I dealt it free." 

I must, however, and will, be independent. 

June 26. — Well, if ever I saw such another thing since my mother 
bound up my head I ' Here is nine of clock strucken and I am still 
fast asleep abed. I have not done the like of this many a day. How- 
ever, it cannot be helped. Went to Court, which detained me till two 
o'clock. A walk home consumed the hour to three ! W^rote in the 
Court, however, to the Duke of Wellington and Lord Bloomfield, and 
that is a good job over. 

I have a letter from a member of the Commission of the Psalmody 
of the Kirk, zealous and pressing. I shall answer him, I think.' One 
from Sir James Stuart,^ on fire with Corfe Castle, with a drawing of 
King Edward, occupying one page, as he hurries down the steep, 
mortally wounded by the assassin. Singular power of speaking at 
once to the eye and the ear. Dined at home. After dinner sorted 
papers. Rather idle. 

June 27. — Corrected proofs and wrote till breakfast. Then the 
Court. Called on Skene and Charles K. Sharpe, and did not get home 
until three o'clock, and then so wet as to require a total change. We 
dine at Hector Buchanan Macdonald's, where there are sometimes 
many people and little conversation. Sent a little chest of books by 
the carrier to Abbotsford. 

A visit from a smart young man, Gustavus Schwab of Konigs- 
berg ; he gives a flattering picture of Prussia, which is preparing for 
freedom. The King must keep his word, though, or the people may 
chance to tire of waiting. Dined at H. B. Macdonald's with rather a 
young party for Colin M'Kenzie and me. 

June 28. — Wrote a little and corrected proofs. How many things 
have I unfinished at present ? 

Chronicles, first volume not ended, 
do., second volume begun. 

Introduction to ditto. 

Tales of My Grandfather. 

Essay on Highlands. This unfinished, owing to certain causes, 

1 See Swift, "Mary the cook to Dr. Sheri- is a serious loss to the cause of devotion, and 
dan." scarce to be incurred without the certainty of 

2 The answer is printed in the Scott Cente- corresponding advantages. But if these recol- 
nary Catalogue by David Laing, from which lections are valuable to persons of education, 
the following extracts are given:— they are almost indispensable to the edifica- 

"The expression of the old metrical transla- tion of the lower ranks whose prejudices do 
tion, though homely, is plain, forcible, and in- not permit them to consider as the words of 
telligible, and very often possesses a iiide sort the inspired poetry, the versions of living or 
of majesty, which perhaps would be ill -ex- modern poets, but persist, however absurdly, in 
changed for mere elegance." "They are the identifying the original with the ancient trans- 
very words and accents of our early Reformers lation." — j. g. l. 
— sung by them in woe and gratitude, in the 

fields, inthe churches, and on the scaffold." 3 Sir James Stuart, the last baronet of AUan- 

*' The parting with this very association of ideas bank. 



1827.] JOURNAL 2Yl 

chiefly want of papers and books to fill up blanks, which I will get at 
Abbotsford. Came home through rain about two, and commissioned 
John Stevenson to call at three about binding some books. Dined 
with Sophia ; visited, on invitation, a fine old little Commodore 
Trunnion, who, on reading a part of Napoleon's history, with which 
he had himself been interested, as commanding a flotilla, thought 
he had detected a mistake, but was luckily mistaken, to my great 
delight. 

"I fear thee, ancient mariner." 

To be cross-examined by those who have seen the true thing is the 
devil. And yet these eye-witnesses are not all right in what they re- 
peat neither, indeed cannot be so, since you will have dozens of con- 
tradictions in their statements. 

June 29. — A distressing letter from Haydon ; imprudent, prob- 
ably, but who is not ? A man of rare genius. What a pity I gave 
that £10 to Craig ! But I have plenty of ten pounds sure, and I may 
make it something. I will get £100 at furthest when I come back 
from the country. Wrote at proofs, but no copy ; I fear I shall wax 
fat and kick against Madam Duty, but I augur better things. 

Just as we were sitting down to dinner, Cadell burst in in high 
spirits with the sale of NajpoUon^ the orders for which pour in, and 
the public report is favourable. Detected two gross blunders though, 
which I have ordered for cancel. Supped (for a wonder) with Colin 
Mackenzie and a bachelor party. Mr. Williams'^ was there, whose 
extensive information, learning, and lively talent makes him always 
pleasant company. Up till twelve — a debauch for me nowadays. 

June 30. — Redd up my things for moving,'' which will clear my 
hands a little on the next final flitting. Corrected proof-sheets. 
Williams told me an English bull last night. A fellow of a college, 

J "The Life of Bonaparte, then, was at last afraid I should be unhappy if I did not say I 

published about the middle of June, 1827. " — will — yet (whisper it, dear Sir Walter) the name 

Life, ix. 117, of Coutts — and a right good one it is — is, and 

•-i Archdeacon Williams, Rector of the New ^^^^ .^^ll be, dear to ray heart What a strange, 

Edinburgh Academy from 1824 to 1847. eventful life has mine been, from a poor little 

player child, with just food and clothes to cover 

3 Among the letters which Sir Walter found me, dependent on a very precarious profession, 
time to write before leaving Edinburgh, was without talent or a friend in the world! 'to 
one to congratulate his old and true friend Mrs. have seen what I have seen, seeing what I see.' 
Coutts on her marriage, which took place on jg it not wonderful? is it true? can I believe 
the 16th of June. That letter has not been it_first the wife of the best, the most perfect, 
preserved, but it drew from her Grace the fol- being that ever breathed, his love and unbound- 
lowing reply: — ed confidence in me, his immense fortune so 

"My dear Sir Walter Scott, — Your most honourably acquired by his own industry, all 
welcome letter has 'wandered mony a weary at my command, . . . and now the wife of a 
mile after me.' Thanks, many thanks for all Duke. You must write my life; the History 
your kind congratulations. I am a Duchess at of Tom Thumb, Jack the Giant Killer, and 
last, that is certain, but whether I am the bet- Goody Two Shoes, will sink compared with my 
ter for it remains to be proved. The Duke is true history written by the Author of Waver- 
very amiable, gentle, and well-disposed, and I ley ; and that you may do it well I have sent 
am sure he has taken pains enough to accom- you an inkstand. Pray, give it a place on your 
plish what he says has been the ilrst wish of table in kind remembrance of your affectionate 
his heart for the last three years. All this is friend, Hakkistt St. Albans, 
very flattering to an old lady, and we lived so "Stratton Street, 
long in friendship with each other that I was ju!i/ uth, 1827." ' 



272 



JOURNAL 



[June, 1827. 



deeply learned, sitting at a public entertainment beside a foreigner, 
tried every means to enter into conversation, but the stranger could 
speak no dead language, the Doctor no living one but his ovs^n. At 
last the scholar, in great extremity, was enlightened by a happy 
'■^ Nonne potes loqui cum digitisP'' — said as if the difficulty was solved 
at once. 

Abbotsford. — Reached this about six o'clock* 



1 Nest morning the following pleasant little 
billet was despatched to Kaeside :— 

"My dear Mr. Laidlaw, I would be happy if 
you would come at kail-time to-day. Napoleon 



(6000 copies) is sold for £11,000.— Yours truly, 

''Sunday. W. S." 

—Abbotsford Notanda, by K. Carruthers, Edin. 
1871. 



JULY 

July 1, \^Ahhotsford'\.~~ K most delicious day, in the course of 
which I have not done 

"The least right thing." 

Before breakfast I employed myself in airing my old bibliomaniacal 
hobby, entering all the boo^^s lately acquired into a temporary cata- 
logue, so as to have them shelved and marked. After breakfast I 
went out, the day being delightful — warm, yet cooled with a gentle 
breeze, all around delicious; the rich luxuriant green refreshing to 
the eye, soft to the tread, and perfume to the smell. Wandered 
about and looked at my plantations. Came home, and received a 
visit from Sir Adam. Loitered in the library till dinner-time. If 
there is anything to be done at all to-day, it must be in the evening. 
But I fear there will be nothing. One can't work always nowther. 

'■^ Neque semper arcum teruMt Apollo?^ 

There's warrant for it. 

July 2. — Wrote in the morning, correcting the Essay on the High- 
lands, which is now nearly completed. Settled accounts with Tom 
and Bogie. Went over to Huntly Burn at two o'clock, and recon- 
noitred the proposed plantation to be called Jane's Wood. Dined 
with the Fergusons. 

July 3. — Worked in the morning upon the Introduction to the 
Chronicles ; it may be thought egotistical. Learned a bad accident 
had happened yesterday. A tinker (drunk I suppose) entered the 
stream opposite to Faldonside with an ass bearing his children. The 
ass was carried down by the force of the stream, and one of the little 
creatures was drowned ; the other was brought out alive, poor inno- 
cent, clinging to the ass. It had floated as far down as Deadwater- 
heugh. Poor thing, it is as well dead as to live a tinker I The Fer- 
gusons dine with us en masse ; also Dr. Brewster. 

July 4, [EdinhurgK], — Worked a little in the morning, and took 
a walk after breakfast, the day so delicious as makes it heart-breaking 
to leave the country. Set out, however, about four o'clock, and 
reached Edinburgh a little after nine. Slept part of the way ; read 
J)e Vere the rest.^ It is well written, in point of language and senti- 

1 Written by R. Plumer Ward, author of lished in 1850, in two vols. 8vo, edited by Hon. 
Tremaine and other works. Jlr. Ward's Polit- E. Phipps. 
teal Life, including a Diary to 1820, was pub- 

18 



274 JOURNAL [July 

ment, but has too little action in it to be termed a pleasing novel. 
Everything is brought out by dialogue — or worse : through the me- 
dium of the author's reflections, which is the clumsiest of all expe- 
dients. 

July 5. — This morning worked, and sent off to J. B. the Introduc- 
tion to the Chronicles^ containing my Confessions,* and did some- 
thing, but not fluently, to the Confessions themselves. Not happy, 
however ; the black dog worries me. Bile, I suppose. " But I will 
rally and combat the reiver." Reiver it is, that wretched malady of 
the mind ; got quite well in the forenoon. Went out to Portobello 
after dinner, and chatted with little Johnnie, and told him the his- 
tory of the Field of Prestonpans. Few remain who care about these 
stories. 

July 6. — This morning wrought a good deal, but scarce a task. 
The Court lasted till half-past three ; exhausting work in this hot 
weather. I returned to dine alone, Anne going to Roslin with a 
party. After noon a Miss Bell broke in upon me, who bothered me 
some time since about a book of hers, explaining and exposing the 
conduct of a Methodist Tartuffe, who had broken off (by anonymous 
letters) a match betwixt her and an accepted admirer. Tried in vain 
to make her comprehend how little the Edinburgh people would care 
about her wrongs, since there was no knowledge of the parties to make 
the scandal acceptable. I believe she has suffered great wrong.^ Let- 
ter from Longman and Co. to J. B. grumbling about bringing out the 
second edition, because they have, forsooth, 700 copies in hand out 
of 5000, five days after the first edition' is out. What would they 
have ? It is uncomfortable, though. 

July 7. — Night dreadfully warm, and bilious ; I could not be fool 
enough surely to be anxious for these wise men of the East's prog- 
nostication. Letters from Lockhart give a very cheerful prospect; 
if there had been any thundering upsetting broadside, he would have 
noticed it surely more or less. R. Cadell quite stout, and determined 
to go on with the second edition. Well, I hope all's right — think- 
ing won't help it. Charles came down this morning penniless, poor 
fellow, but we will soon remedy that. Lockhart remits £100 for 
reviewing ; I hope the next will be for Sophia, for cash affairs loom 
well in the offing, and if the trust funds go right, I was never so easy. 
I will take care how I get into debt again. I do not like this croak- 
ing of these old owls of Saint Paul's when all is done. The pitcher 
has gone often to the well. But — However, I worked away at the 
Chronicles. I will take pains with them. I will, by Jove ! 

July 8. — I did little to-day but arrange papers, and put bills, re- 
ceipts, etc., into apple-pie order. I believe the fair prospect I have 
of clearing off some encumbrances, which are like thorns in my flesh, 
nay, in my very eye, contribute much to this. I did not even cor- 

1 ^Q&post, p 313, 314 note. s Napoleon. 

2 See ante, pp. 64, G5. 



1827.] JOURNAL 275 

rect proof - sheets ; nay, could not, for I have cancelled two sheets, 
instante Jacobo, and I myself being of his opinion ; for, as I said 
yesterday, we must and will take pains. The fiddle-faddle of ar- 
ranging all the things was troublesome, but they give a good account 
of my affairs. The money for the necessary payments is ready, and 
therefore there is a sort of pleasure which does not arise out of any 
mean source, since it has for its object the prospect of doing justice 
and achieving independence. J. B. dined with me, poor fellow, and 
talked of his views as hopeful and prosperous. God send honest in- 
dustry a fair riddance. 

July 9. — Wrote in the morning. At eleven went by appoint- 
ment with Colin Mackenzie to the New Edinburgh Academy. In 
the fifth class, Mr. Mitchell's, we heard Greek, of which I am no oth- 
erwise a judge than that it was fluently read and explained. In the 
rector Mr. Williams's class we heard Virgil and Livy admirably trans- 
lated ad aperturam libri, and, what I thought remarkable, the rector 
giving the English, and the pupils returning, with singular dexterity, 
the Latin, not exactly as in the original, but often by synonymes, 
which showed that the exercise referred to the judgment, and did not 
depend on the memor}^ I could not help saying, with great truth, 
that, as we had all long known how much the pupils were fortunate 
in a rector, so we were now taught that the rector was equally lucky 
in his pupils. Of my young friends, I saw a son of John Swinton, a 
son of Johnstone of Alva, and a son of Craufurd Tait.^ Dined at 
John Murray's ; Mr. and Mrs. Philips, of Liverpool, General and 
Charles Stuart of Blantyre, Lord Abercromby, Clerk and Thomson. 
Pleasant evening. 

July 10. — Corrected proofs, but wrote nothing. To Court till 
two o'clock. I went to Cadell's by the Mound, a long roundabout ; 
transacted some business. I met Baron Hume coming home, and 
walked with him in the Gardens. His remarkable account of his 
celebrated uncle's last moments is in these words : — Dr. Black called 
on Mr. D. Hume^ on the morning on which he died. The patient 
complained of having suffered a great deal during the night, and ex- 
pressed a fear that his struggle might be prolonged, to his great dis- 
tress, for days or weeks longer. " No, sir," said Dr. Black, with the 
remarkable calmness and sincerity which characterized him, " I have 
examined the symptoms, and observe several which oblige me to con- 
clude that dissolution is rapidly approaching." "Are you certain 
of that. Doctor ?" " Most assuredly so," answered the physician. 
The dying philosopher extended his arm, and shook hands with his 
medical friend. " I thank you," he said, " for the news." So little 
reason there was for the reports of his having been troubled in mind 
when on his deathbed. 

Dined at Lord Abercromby's, to meet Lord Melville in private. 

1 Archibald Campbell Tait, afterwards Arch- 2 David Hume, the historian, died August 25, 

bishop of Canterbury. 1776. 



276 JOURNAL [July 

We had an interview betwixt dinner and tea. I was sorry to see my 
very old friend, this upright statesman and honourable gentleman, 
deprived of his power and his oflScial income, which the number of 
his family must render a matter of importance. He was cheerful, 
not affectedly so, and bore his declension like a wise and brave man. 
I had nursed the idea that he had been hasty in his resignation ; but, 
from the letters which he showed me confidentially, which passed be- 
twixt him and Canning, it is clear his resignation was to be accom- 
plished, not I suppose for personal considerations, but because it 
rendered the Admiralty vacant for the Duke of Clarence, as his resig- 
nation was eagerly snapped at. It cannot be doubted that if he had 
hesitated or hung back behind his friends, forcible means would have 
been used to compel to the measure, which with more dignity he 
took of his own accord — at least so it seemed to me. The first in- 
timation which Lord Melville received of his successor was through 

Mr. , who told him, as great news, that there was to be a new 

Duke of York.^ Lord M. understood the allusion so little, as to in- 
quire whether his informant meant that the Duke of Cambridge had 
taken the Duke of York's situation, when it was explained to refer to 
the Duke of Clarence getting the Admiralty. There are some few 
words that speak volumes. Lord Melville said that none of them sus- 
pected Canning's negotiations with the Whigs but the Duke of Wel- 
lington, who found it out through the ladies ten days before. I asked 
him how they came to be so unprepared, and could not help saying 
I thought they had acted without consideration, and that they might 
have shown a face even to Canning. He allowed the truth of what I 
said, and seemed to blame Peel's want of courage. Li his place, he 
said, he would have proposed to form a government disclaiming any 
personal views for himself as being Premier and the like, but upon 
the principle of supporting the measures of Lord Castlereagh and 
Lord Liverpool. I think this would have been acceptable to the 
King. Mr. Peel obviously feared his great antagonist Canning, and 
perhaps threw the game up too soon. Canning said the office of 
Premier was his inheritance ; he could not, from constitution, hold it 
above two years, and then it would descend to Peel. Such is ambi- 
tion ! Old friends forsaken — old principles changed — every effort 
used to give the vessel of the State a new direction, and all to be 
Palinurus for two years ! 

July 11, \Ahhotsford\. — Worked at proofs in the morning; com- 
posed nothing. Got off by one, and to this place between six and 
seven. Weather delicious. 



1 To please the king, Canning appointed the Croker's Correspondence, vol. i. pp. 264 (letter 

Duke of Clarence as first Lord of the Admiralty, to Blonifleld), 427, 429 ; also ante, p. 171. Lord 

but Greville says it was a most judicious stroke Melville was President of the India Board in 

of policy, and nothing served so much to dis- the Duke of Wellington's administration in 1828. 

concert his opponents. Lord Melville had held and again First I,ord from Sept. 17 of the same 

the office from March 25. 1812. to April 13, 1827. year until Nov. 22, 1830. 
The Duke resigned in the following year.— See 



1827.] JOURNAL 211 

July 12. — Unpacking and arranging; tlie urchins are stealing the 
cherries in the outer garden. But I can spare a thousand larch-trees 
to put it in order with a good fence for next year. It is not right to 
leave fruit exposed ; for if Adam in the days of innocence fell by an 
apple, how much may the little gossoon Jamie Moffatt be tempted by 
apples of gold in an age of iron ! Anne and I walked to Huntly 
Burn — a delicious excursion. That place is really become beautiful ; 
the Miss Fergusons have displayed a great deal of taste. 

July 13. — Two agreeable persons — Rev. Mr. Gilly,^ one of the 
prebendaries of Durham, with his wife, a pretty little woman — dined 
with us, and met Mr. Scrope. I heard the whole history of the dis- 
covery of St. Cuthbert's'' body at Durham Cathedral. The Catholics 
will deny the identity, of course ; but I think it is constate by the 
dress and other circumstances. Made a pleasant day of it, and with 
a good conscience, for I had done my task this morning. 

July 14. — Did task this morning, and believe that I shall get on 
now very well. Wrote about five leaves. I have been baking and 
fevering myself like a fool for these two years in a room exposed to 
the south ; comfortable in winter, but broiling in the hot weather. 
Now I have removed myself into the large cool library, one of the 
most refreshing as well as handsomest rooms in Scotland, and will 
not use the study again till the heats are past. Here is an entry as 
solemn as if it respected the Vicar of Wakefield's removal from the 
yellow room to the brown. But I think my labours will advance 
greatly in consequence of this arrangement. Walked in the evening 
to the lake. 

July 15. — Achieved six pages to-day, and finished volume i. of 
Chronicles. It is rather long ; but I think the last story interesting, 
and it should not be split up into parts. J. B. will, I fear, think it 
low ; and if he thinks so, others will. Yet — vamos. Drove to Hunt- 
ly Burn in the evening. 

July 16. — Made a good morning's work of the Tales. In the 
day-time corrected various proofs. J. B. thinks that in the proposed 
introduction I contemn too much the occupation by which I have 
thriven so well, and hints that I may easily lead other people to fol- 
low my opinion in vilipending my talents, and the use I have made 
of them. I cannot tell. I do not like, on the one hand, to suppress 
my own opinion of the flocci-pauci-nihili-pilification with which I re- 
gard these things ; but yet, in duty to others, I cannot afford to break 
my own bow, or befoul my own nest, and there may be something 
like affectation and nolo episcopari in seeming to underrate my own 
labours ; so, all things considered, I will erase the passage. Truth 
should not be spoke at all times. In the evening we had a delightful 
drive to Ashestiel with Colonel and Miss Ferguson. 

1 The Rev. William Stephen Gilly, D.D., Vicar searches among the Vaudois or Waldenses, 1827- 
of Norham, author of Narrative of an Excur- 31. 
sion to the Mountains of Piemont, 1823 ; Re- 2 See Raine's St. CiUhbert, 4to, Durham, 1828. 



278 JOURNAL [July 

July 17. — I wrote a laborious task; seven pages of Tales. Kept 
about the doors all day. Gave Bogie £10 to buy cattle to-morrow 
at St. Boswell's Fair. Here is a whimsical subject of affliction. Mr. 
Harper, a settler, who went from this country to Botany Bay, think- 
ing himself obliged to me for a recommendation to General McAllis- 
ter and Sir Thomas Brisbane, has thought proper to bring me home a 
couple of Emus. I wish his gratitude had either taken a different turn, 
or remained as quiescent as that of others whom I have obliged more 
materially, I at first accepted the creatures, conceivmg them, in my 
ignorance, to be some sort of blue and green parrot, which, though I 
do not admire their noise, might scream and yell at their pleasure if 
hung up in the hall among the armour. But your emu, it seems, 
stands six feet high on his stocking soles, and is little better than a 
kind of cassowary or ostrich. Hang them ! they might [eat] up my 
collection of old arms for what I know. It reminds me of the story 
of the adjutant birds in Theodore Hook's novel* No; I'll no 
Emuses ! 

July 18. — Entered this morning on the history of Sir AVilliam 
Wallace. I wish I may be able to find my way between what the 
child can comprehend and what shall not yet be absolutely unin- 
teresting to the grown readers. Uncommon facts I should think the 
best receipt. Learn that Mr. Owen Kees and John Gibson have ami- 
cably settled their differences about the last edition of Napoleon, 
the Trustees allowing the publishers nine months' credit. My nerves 
have for these two or three last days been susceptible of an acute ex- 
citement from the slightest causes ; the beauty of the evening, the 
sighing of the summer breeze, brings the tears into my eyes not un- 
pleasingly. But I must take exercise, and caseharden myself. There 
is no use in encouraging these moods of the mind. It is not the 
law we live on. 

We had a little party with some luncheon at the lake, where Mr. 
Bainbridge fished without much success. Captain Hamilton and two 
Messrs. Stirling, relatives of my old friend Keir^ were there, and walk- 
ed with me a long round home. I walked better than I had done for 
some days. Mr. Scrope dined with us ; he was complaining of gout, 
which is a bad companion for the stag-shooting. 

July 19. — I made out my task this forenoon, and a good deal 
more. Sent five or six pages to James Ballantyne, i.e. got them 
ready, and wrote till the afternoon, then I drove over to Huntly Burn, 
and walked through the glens till dinner-time. After dinner read and 
worked till bed-time. Yet I have written well, walked well, talked 
well, and have nothing to regret. 

July 20.^— Despatched my letters to J. B., with supply of copy, and 
made up more than my task — about four leaves, I think. Offered my 
Emuses to the Duke of Buccleuch. I had an appointment with Cap- 

1 See Danvers in First Series o{ Sayings and Doings. 



1827.] JOURNAL 279 

tain Hamilton and his friends the Stirlings, that they were to go up 
Yarrow to-day. But the weather seems to say no. 

My visitors came, however, and we went up to Newark. Here is 
a little misfortune, for Spice left me, and we could not find her. As 
we had no servant with us on horseback, I was compelled to leave 
her to her fate, resolving to send in quest of her to-morrow morning. 
The keepers are my honos socios, as the host says in the Devil of Ed- 
monton,^ and would as soon shoot a child as a dog of mine. But there 
are scamps and traps, and I am ashamed to say how reluctantly I left 
the poor little terrier to its fate. 

She came home to me, however, about an hour and a half after 
we were home, to my great delectation. Our visitors dined with us. 

July 21. — This morning wrote five pages of children's history. 
Went to Minto, where we met, besides Lord M. and his delightful 
countess, Thomas Thomson, Kennedy of Dunure,* Lord Carnarvon, and 
his younger son and daughter-in-law ; the dowager Lady Minto also, 
whom I always delight to see, she is so full of spirit and intelligence. 
We rubbed up some recollections of twenty years ago, when I was 
more intimate with the family till Whig and Tory separated us for 
a time. By the way, nobody talks Whig or Tory just now ; and the 
fighting men on each side go about muzzled and mute like dogs after 
a proclamation about canine madness. Am I sorry for this truce or 
not ? Half and half. It is all we have left to stir the blood, this lit- 
tle political brawling ; but better too little of it than too much. 

July 22, [Abbotsjford], — Rose a little later than usual, and wrote a 
letter to Mrs. Joanna Baillie. She is writing a tragedy^ on witch- 
craft. I shall be curious to see it. Will it be real witchcraft — the 
ipsissimus diaholus — or an impostor, or the half -crazed being who be- 
lieves herself an ally of condemned spirits, and desires to be so ? 
That last is a sublime subject. We set out after breakfast, and 
reached this about two. I walked from two till four ; chatted a long 
time with Charles after dinner, and thus went my day sine linea. But 
we will make it up. James Ballantyne dislikes my " Drovers." But 
it shall stand. I must have my own way sometimes. 

I received news of two deaths at once : Lady Die Scott, my very 
old friend, and Archibald Constable, the bookseller. 

July 23. — Yes ! they are both for very different reasons subjects 
of reflection. Lady Diana Scott, widow of Walter Scott of Harden, 
was the last person whom I recollect so much older than myself, that 
she kept always at the same distance in point of years, so that she 
scarce seemed older to me (relatively) two years ago, when in her 
ninety-second year, than fifty years before. She was the daughter 

1 The Memj Devil of Edmonton, a play by for Ayr Burghs, 1818-34. Died at the age ot 
"T. B.," which has also been attributed to ninety at Palquharran in 1879. 
Anthony Brewer. 3 This powerful drama, entitled Witchcraft : 

a Tragedy in Prose, was suggested, as the au- 
thor says in her preface, by reading a scene in 
a Right Hon. Thomas Francis Kennedy, M.P. The Bride of Lammermoor. 



280 JOURNAL [July 

(alone remaining) of Pope's Earl of Marchmont, and, like her father, 
had an acute mind and an eager temper. She was always kind to 
me, remarkably so indeed when I was a boy. 

Constable's death might have been a most important thing to me 
if it had happened some years ago, and I should then have lamented 
it much. He has lived to do me some injury ; yet, excepting the 
last £5000, 1 think most unintentionally. He was a prince of book- 
sellers ; his views sharp, powerful, and liberal ; too sanguine, however, 
and, like many bold and successful schemers, never knowing when to 
stand or stop, and not always calculating his means to his objects 
with mercantile accuracy. He was very vain, for which he had some 
reason, having raised himself to great commercial eminence, as he 
might also have attained great wealth with good management. He 
knew, I think, more of the business of a bookseller in planning and 
executing popular works than any man of his time. In books them- 
selves he had much bibliographical information, but none whatever 
that could be termed literary. He knew the rare volumes of his 
library not only by the eye, but by the touch, when blindfolded. 
Thomas Thomson saw him make this experiment, and, that it might 
be complete, placed in his hand an ordinary volume instead of one 
of these lihri rariores. He said he had over-estimated his memory ; 
he could not recollect that volume. Constable was a violent-tempered 
man with those that he dared use freedom with. He was easily over- 
awed by people of consequence, but, as usual, took it out of those 
whom poverty made subservient to him. Yet he was generous, and 
far from bad-hearted. In person good-looking, but very corpulent 
latterly ; a large feeder, and deep drinker, till his health became 
weak. He died of water in the chest, which the natural strength of 
his constitution set long at defiance. I have no great reason to re- 
gret him; yet I do. If he deceived me, he also deceived himself.' 

' Did Constable ruin Scott, as had been gen- On reading the third volume of Constable's 
erally supposed? It is right to say that such Memoirs (3 vols. 8vo, 1873), one cannot fail to 
a charge was not made during the'lifetime of see that all the three parties— printer, publish- 
either. Immediately after Scott's death Miss er, and author— were equal sharers in the im- 
Edgeworth wrote to Sir James Gibson-Craig prudences that led to the disaster in 1826. 
and asked him for authentic information as to Whether Mr. Constable was right in recom- 
Sir Walter's connection with Constable. Sir mending further advances to the London house 
James in reply stated that to his personal is doubtful; but if it was an error of judgment, 
knowledge Jlr. Constable had, in his anxiety to it was one which appears to have been shared 
save Scott, about 1814 [1813], commenced a sys- by Mr. Cadell and Mr. James Ballantyne. It 
tem of accommodation bills which could not must be admitted that the three firms were 
fail to produce, and actually did produce, the equally culpable in maintaining for so many 
ruin of both parties. To another correspond- years a system of fictitious credit. Constable, 
ent, some years later, he wrote still more strong- at least, from a letter to Scott, printed in vol. 
ly (Memoirs, vol. iii. p. 457). iii. p. 274, had become seriously alarmed as 

Scott appears to have been aware of the facts early as August 8, 1823. 
so far, as he says to Laidlaw, in a letter of De- That Constable was correct in his estimate 

cember 16, 1825, ''The confusion of 1814 is a of the value of the literary property has been 

joke to this . . . but it arises out of the nature shown by the large sums realised from the sale 

of the same connection which gives, and has of Scott's works since 1829; and that his was 

given, me a fortune;" and Mr. Lockhart says the brain (-'the pendulum of the clock" as 

that the firm of J. B. & Co. "had more than Scott termed it) to plan is also shown by the 

once owed its escape from utter ruin and dis- fact that the so-called "'favourite" edition, the 

honour" through Constable's exertions. — Life, magnum opus, appears to have been Constable's 

vol. V. p. 1.50. idea {Memoirs, vol. iii. p. 255), although, accord- 



1827.] JOURNAL 281 

Wrote five pages to-day, and went to see Mr. Scrope, who is fast 
with the gout — a bad companion to attend him 

"to Athole Braes, 
To shoot the dun deer dowu, down — 
To shoot the dun deer down." 

July 24. — Finished five pages before eleven o'clock, at which 
time Mr. Deputy Register^ arrived from Minto, and we had an agree- 
able afternoon, talking about the old days we have had together. I 
was surprised to find that Thomson knew as little as I do myself how 
to advise Charles to a good course of Scottish History. Hailes and 
Pinkerton, Robertson and Laing — there is nothing else for it — and 
Pinkerton is poor work. Laing, besides his party spirit, has a turn 
for generalising, which renders him rather dull, which was not the 
nature of the acute Orcadian. 

July 25. — Thomson left us this morning early. I finished four 
pages, and part of a fifth, then drove to Huntly Burn and returned 
through the Glen ; I certainly turn heavy-footed^ not in the female 
sense, however. I had one or two falls among the slippy heather, 
not having Tom Purdie to give me his arm. I suppose I shall need 
a go-cart one of these days ; and if it must be so — so let it be. Fiat 
voluntas tua. 

A letter from John Gibson in the evening brought me word that 
Lord Newton had adjudged the profits of Woodstock and Napoleon 
to be my own. This is a great matter, and removes the most im- 
portant part of my dispute with Constable's creditors. I waked in 
the middle of the night. Sure I am not such a feather-headed gull 
as not to be able to sleep for good news. I am thankful that it is as 
it is. Had it been otherwise, I could have stood it. The money 
realised will pay one-third of all that I owe in the world — and what 
will pay the other two-thirds ? I am as well and as capable as when 
those misfortunes began — January was a year. The public favour 
may wane, indeed, but it has not failed as yet, and I must not be too 
anxious about that possibility. 

James B. has found fault with my tales for being too historical ; 
formerly it was for being too infantine. He calls out for starch, and 
is afraid of his cravat being too stiff. O ye critics, will nothing melt 
ye? 

July 26. — Wrote till one o'clock, and finished the first volume of 
Tales — about six leaves. To-morrow I resume the Chronicles, tooth 
and nail. They must be good, if possible. After all, works of fic- 
tion, viz., cursed lies, are easier to write, and much more popular than 
the best truths. Walked over to the head of the Roman road, com- 



ing to the Annual Register of 1849, Mr. Cadell i Thomas Thomson, Depute - Clerk Register 

claimed the merit of a scheme which he had for Scotland under Lord Frederick Campbell, 
"quietly and privately matured." 



282 JOURNAL [July 

ing round by Baucliland and the Abbot's Walk. Wrote letters in 
the evening. 

July 27. — In the morning still busied with my correspondence. 
No great desire to take up the Chronicles. But it must be done. 
Devil take the necessity, and the folly and knavery, that occasioned 
it ! But this is no matter now. Accordingly I set tightly to 
work, and got on till two, when I took a walk. Was made very hap- 
py by the arrival of Sophia and her babies, all in good health and 
spirits. 

July 28. — Worked hard in the morning. The two Ballantynes, 
and Mr. Hogarth with them. Owen Rees came early in the day. 
Fergusons came to dinner. Rees in great kindness and good -hu- 
mour, but a little drumlie, I think, about Napoleon. We heard San- 
die's violin after dinner — 

" Whose touch harmonious can remove 

The pangs of guilty power and hopeless love."* 

I do not understand or care about fine music ; but there is some- 
thing in his violin which goes to the very heart. Sophia sung too, 
and we were once more merry in hall — the first time for this many a 
month and many a day. 

July 29. — Could not do more than undertake my proofs to-day, 
of which J. B. has brought out a considerable quantity. Walked at 
one with Hogarth and Rees — the day sultry, hot, and we hot accord- 
ingly, but crept about notwithstanding. I am sorry to see my old 
and feal friend James rather unable to walk — once so stout and ac- 
tive — so was I in my way once. Ah ! that vile word, what a world of 
loss it involves ! 

July 30. — One of the most peppering thunder-storms which I 
have heard for some time. Routed and roared from six in the morn- 
ing till eight continuously. 

"The thunder ceased not, nor the fire reposed; 
Well done, old Botherby." 

Time wasted, though very agreeably, after breakfast. At noon, set 
out for Chiefswood in the carriage, and walked home, footing it over 
rough and smooth, with the vigour of early days. James Ballantyne 
marched on too, somewhat meltingly, but without complaint. We 
again had beautiful music after dinner. The heart of age arose. I 
have often wondered whether I have a taste for music or no. My ear 
appears to me as dull as my voice is incapable of musical expression, 
and yet I feel the utmost pleasure in any such music as I can com- 
prehend, learned pieces always excepted. I believe I may be about 

1 Johnson's Epitaph on Claude Phillips. 



182V.] JOURNAL 283 

the pitch of Terry's connoisseurship, and that " I have a reasonable 
good ear for a jig, but your solos and sonatas give me the spleen." 

July 31. — Employed the morning writing letters and correcting 
proofs ; this is the second day and scarce a line written, but circum- 
stances are so much my apology that even Duty does not murmur, at 
least not much. We had a drive up to Galashiels, and sent J. B. off 
to Edinburgh in the Mail. Music in the evening as before. 



AUGUST 

August 1. — My guests left me and I tliougM of turning to work 
again seriously. Finished five pages. Dined alone, excepting Huntly 
Gordon, who is come on a visit, poor lad. I hope he is well fixed un- 
der Mr. Planta's^ patronage. Smoked a cigar after dinner. Laughed 
with my daughters, and read them the review of Hoffmann's produc- 
tion out of G-illies's new Foreign Review. 

The undertaking would do, I am convinced, in any other person's 
hands than those of the improvident editor ; but I hear he is living 
as thoughtlessly as ever in London, has hired a large, house, and gives 
Burgundy to his guests. This will hardly suit £500 a year. 

August 2. — Got off my proofs. Went over to breakfast at Huntly 
Burn ; the great object was to see my cascade in the Glen suitably 
repaired. I have had it put to rights by puddling and damming. 
What says the frog in the Fairy Tale ? — 

"Stuff with moss, and clog with clay, 
And that will weize the water away." 

Having seen the job pretty tightly done, walked deliciously home 
through the woods. But no work all this while. Then for up and at 
it. But in spite of good resolutions I trifled with my children after 
dinner, and read to them in the evening, and did just nothing at all. 

August 3. — Wrote five pages and upwards — scarce amends for 
past laziness. Huntly Gordon lent me a volume of his father's man- 
uscript memoirs.^ They are not without interest, for Pryse Gordon, 
though a bit of a roue, is a clever fellow in his way. One thing 
struck me, being the story of an Irish swindler, who called himself 
Henry King Edgeworth, an impudent gawsey fellow, who deserted 
from Gordon's recruiting party, enlisted again, and became so great 
a favourite with the Colonel of the regiment which he joined, that he 
was made pay-sergeant. Here he deserted to purpose with £200 or 
£300, escaped to France, got a commission in the Corps sent to in- 
vade Ireland, was taken, recognised, and hanged. What would Mr. 
Theobald Wolfe Tone have said to such an associate in his regener- 
ating expedition ? These are thy gods, Israel ! The other was the 
displeasure of the present Cameron of Lochiel, on finding that the 

1 Right Hon. Joseph Planta (son of Joseph Secretaries to the Treasury. He died in 1847. 
Planta. Principal Librarian of the British Mu- 3 Personal Memoirs by P. L. Gordon, 2 vols, 

seum from 1799J was at this time one of the 8vo, Lond. 1830. 



August, 1827.] JOURNAL 285 

forty Camerons, with whom he joined the Duke of Gordon's North- 
ern Fencible regiment, were to be dispersed. He had wellnigh muti- 
nied and marched back with them. This would be a good anecdote 
for Garth. ^ 

August 4. — Spent the morning at Selkirk, examining people about 
an assault. When I returned I found Charlotte Kerr here with a 
clever little boy, Charles Scott, grandson of Charles of the Woll, and 
son of William, and grand-nephew of John of Midgehope. He seems 
a smart boy, and, considering that he is an only son with expectations, 
not too much spoiled. General Yermoloff called with a letter from a 
Dr. Knox, whom I do not know. If it be Vicesimus, we met nearly 
twenty-five years ago and did not agree. But General YermoloS's 
name was luckily known to me. He is a man in the flower of life, 
about thirty, handsome, bold, and enthusiastic ; a great admirer of 
poetry, and all that. He had been in the Moscow campaign, and 
those which followed, but must have been very young. He made not 
the least doubt that Moscow was burned by Rostopchin, and said that 
there was a general rumour before the French entered the town, and 
while the inhabitants were leaving it, that persons were left to destroy 
it. I asked him why the magazine of gunpowder had not been set 
fire to in the first instance. He answered that he believed the explo- 
sion of that magazine would have endangered the retreating Russians. 
This seemed unsatisfactory. The march of the Russians was too dis- 
tant from Moscow to be annoyed by the circumstance. I pressed him 
as well as I could about the slowness of Koutousoff's operations ; and 
he frankly owned that the Russians were so much rejoiced and sur- 
prised to see the French in retreat, that it was long ere they could 
credit the extent of the advantage which they had acquired. This 
has been but an idle day, so far as composition is concerned, but I 
was detained late at Selkirk. 

August 5. — Wrote near six pages. General Yermoloff left me 
with many expressions of enthusiastic regard, as foreigners use to do. 
He is a kinsman of Princess Galitzin, whom I saw at Paris. I walked 
with Tom after one o'clock. Dined en famille with Miss Todd, a 
pretty girl, and wrote after dinner. 

August 6. — This morning finished proofs and was hang up with 
everything. When I was about to sit down to write, I have the 
agreeable tidings that Henderson, the fellow who committed the as- 
sault at Selkirk, and who made his escape from the ofiicers on Satur- 
day, was retaken, and that it became necessary that I should go up 
to examine him. Returned at four, and found Mrs. George Swinton 
from Calcutta, to whose husband I have been much obliged, with Archie 
and cousin Peggie Swinton, arrived. So the evening was done up. 

August 7. — Cousins still continuing, we went to Melrose. I fin- 

1 General David Stewart of Garth, author of Sir Walter said of him that no man was " more 
Sketches of the Highlanders. 2 vols. 8vo, Edin. regretted, or perhaps by a wider circle of 
1822. General Stewart died in St. Lucia in 1829. friends and acquaintance. " 



286 JOURNAL [August 

ished, however, in the first place, a pretty smart task, which is so far 
well, as we expect the Skenes to-morrow. Lockhart arrived from Lon- 
don. The news are that Canning is dangerously ill. This is the bowl 
being broken at the cistern with a vengeance. If he dies now, it will 
be pity it was not five months ago. The time has been enough to do 
much evil, but not to do any permanent good. 

August 8. — Huntly G-ordon proposed to me that I should give him 
my correspondence, which we had begun to arrange last year. I re- 
solved not to lose the opportunity, and began to look out and arrange 
the letters from about 1810, throwing out letters of business and such 
as are private. They are of little consequence, generally speaking, 
yet will be one day curious. I propose to have them bound up, to 
save trouble. It is a sad task ; how many dead, absent, estranged, 
and altered ! I wrought till the Skenes came at four o'clock. I love 
them well ; yet I wish their visit had been made last week, when oth- 
er people were here. It kills time, or rather murders it, this com- 
pany-keeping. Yet what remains on earth that I like so well as a 
little society ? I wrote not a line to-day. 

August 9. — I finished the arrangement of the letters so as to put 
them into Mr. Gordon's hands. It will be a great job done. But, in the 
meanwhile, it interrupts my work sadly, for I kept busy till one o'clock 
to-day with this idle man's labour. Still, however, it might have been 
long enough ere I got a confidential person like Gordon to arrange these 
confidential papers. They are all in his hands now. Walked after one. 

August 10. — This is a morning of fidgety, nervous confusion. I 
sought successively my box of Bramah pens, my proof-sheets, and 
last, not least anxiously, my spectacles. I am convinced I lost a full 
hour in these various chases. I collected all my insubordinate mova- 
bles at once, but had scarce corrected the proof and written half-a- 
score of lines, than enter Dalgleish, declaring the Blucher hour is 
come. The weather, however, is rainy, and fitted for a day of pure 
work, but I was able only to finish my task of three pages. 

The death of the Premier is announced. Late George Canning, 
the witty, the accomplished, the ambitious ; he who had toiled thirty 
years, and involved himself in the most harassing discussions to at- 
tain this dizzy height ; he who had held it for three months of in- 
trigue and obloquy — and now a heap of dust, and that is all. He was 
an early and familiar friend of mine, through my intimacy with George 
Ellis. No man possessed a gayer and more playful wit in society ; 
no one, since Pitt's time, had more commanding sarcasm in debate ; 
in the House of Commons he was the terror of that species of orators 
called the Yelpers. His lash fetched away both skin and fiesh, and 
would have penetrated the hide of a rhinoceros. In his conduct as a 
statesman he had a great fault: he lent himself too willingly to in- 
trigue. Thus he got into his quarrel with Lord Castle reagh,* and lost 

1 Resulting in the duel of 21st September, 1809. —See Croker's Correspondence, vol. i. p. 20; 
and Life, vol. iii. cii. xix. 



1827.] JOURNAL 287 

credit with the country for want of openness. Thus too, he got in- 
volved with the Queen's party to such an extent that it fettered him 
upon that memorable quarrel, and obliged him to butter Sir Robert 
Wilson with dear friend, and gallant general, and so forth. The last 
composition with the Whigs was a sacrifice of principle on both sides. 
I have some reason to think they counted on getting rid of him in 
two or three years. To me Canning was always personally most kind. 
I saw, with pain, a great change in his health when I met him at 
Colonel Bolton's at Stors in 1825. In London I thought him looking 
better. 

August 11. — Wrote nearly five pages ; then walked. A visit from 
Henry Scott ;^ nothing known as yet about politics. A high Tory 
Administration would be a great evil at this time. There are repairs 
in the structure of our constitution which ought to be made at this 
season, and without which the people will not long be silent. A pure 
Whig Administration would probably play the devil by attempting a 
thorough repair. As to a compound, or melo-dramatic. Ministry, the 
parts out of which such a one could be organised just now are at a 
terrible discount in public estimation, nor will they be at par in a hur- 
ry again. The public were generally shocked at the complete lack of 
principle testified by public men on the late occasion, and by some 
who till then had some credit with the public. The Duke of W. has 
risen by his firmness on the one side. Earl Grey on the other. 

August 12. — Wrote my task and no more. Walked with Lock- 
hart from one o'clock to four. Took in our way the Glen, which looks 
beautiful. I walked with extreme pain and feebleness until we began 
to turn homewards, when the relaxation of the ankle sinews seemed 
to be removed, and I trode merrily home. This is strange ; that ex- 
ercise should restore the nerves from the chill or numbness which is 
allied to palsy, I am well aware, but how it should restore elasticity 
to sinews that are too much relaxed, I for one cannot comprehend. 
Colonel Russell came to dinner with us, and to consult me about 
some family matters. He has the spirit of a gentleman ; that is cer- 
tain. 

August 13. — A letter from booksellers at Brussels informs me of 
the pleasant tidings that Napoleon is a total failure ; that they have 
lost much money on a version which they were at great expense in 
preparing, and modestly propose that I should write a novel to make 
them amends for loss on a speculation which I knew nothing about. 
" Have you nothing else to ask ?" as Sancho says to the farmer, who 
asks him to stock a farm for his son, portion off his daughters, etc. 
etc. They state themselves to be young booksellers ; certes, they 
must hold me to be a very young author ! Napoleon, however, has 
failed on the Continent — and perhaps in England also ; for, from the 
mumbling, half -grumbling tone of Longman and Co., dissatisfaction 

1 Afterwards Lord Polwarth. 



288 JOURNAL [August 

may be apprehended. Well, I can set my face to it boldly. I live 
not in the public opinion, not I ; but egad ! I live by it, and tbat is 
worse. Tu ne cede malis, sed contra, etc. 

I corrected and transmitted sheets before breakfast; afterwards 
went and cut wood with Tom, but returned about twelve in rather 
a melancholy humour. I fear this failure may be followed by oth-. 
ers ; and then what chance of extricating my affairs. But they that 
look to freits, freits will follow them. Hussards en avant, — care 
killed a cat. I finished three pages — that is, a full task of the Chron- 
icles — after I returned. Mr. and Mrs. Philips of Manchester came 
to dinner. 

August 14. — Finished my task before breakfast. A bad rainy 
day, for which I should not have cared but for my guests. However, 
being good-humoured persons and gifted with taste, we got on very 
well, by. dint of showing prints, curiosities ; finally the house up stairs 
and down ; and at length by undertaking a pilgrimage to Melrose in 
the rain, which pilgrimage we accomplished, but never entered the 
Abbey Church, having just had wetting enough to induce us, when 
we arrived at the gate, to " Turn again, Whittington." 

August 15. — Wrote in the morning. After breakfast walked with 
Mr. Philips, who is about to build and plan himself, and therefore 
seemed to enter con amore into all I had been doing, asked questions, 
and seemed really interested to learn what I thought myself not ill- 
qualified to teach. The little feeling of superior information in such 
cases is extremely agreeable. On the contrary, it is a great scrape 

to find you have been boring some one who did not care a d 

about the matter, so to speak ; and that you might have been as 
well employed in buttering a whin-stone. Mr. and Mrs. Philips left 
us about twelve — day bad. I wrote nearly five pages of Chronicles. 

August 16. — A wet, disagreeable, sulky day, but such things may 
be carried to account. I wrote upwards of seven pages, and placed 
myself rectus in curia with Madam Duty, who was beginning to lift 
up her throat against me. Nothing remarkable except that Huntly 
Gordon left us. 

August 17. — Wrote my task in the morning. After breakfast 
went out and cut wood with Tom and John Swanston, and hewed 
away with my own hand ; remained on foot from eleven o'clock till 
past three, doing, in my opinion, a great deal of good in plantations 
above the house, where the firs had been permitted to predominate 
too much over the oak and hardwood. The day was rough and 
stormy — not the worst for working, and I could do it with a good 
conscience, all being well forward in the duty line. After tea I 
worked a little longer. On the whole finished four leaves and up- 
wards — about a printed sheet — which is enough for one day. 

August 18. — Finished about five leaves, and then out to the wood, 
where I chopped away among the trees, laying the foundation for 
future scenery. These woods will one day occupy a great number of 



1827.] JOURNAL 289 

hands. Four years hence they will employ ten stout woodsmen al- 
most every day of the year. Henry and William Scott (Harden) 
came to dinner. 

August 19. — Wrote till about one, then walked for an hour or 
two by myself entirely ; finished five pages before dinner, when we 
had Captain and Mrs. Hamilton and young Davidoff, who is their 
guest. They remained with us all night. 

August 20. — I corrected proofs and wrote one leaf before break- 
fast ; then went up to Selkirk to try a fellow for an assault. The 
people there get rather riotous. This is a turbulent fierce fellow. 
Some of his attitudes were good during the trial. This dissipated 
my attention for the day, although I was back by half-past two. I 
did not work any more, so am behind in my reckoning. 

August 21. — Wrote four pages, then set out to make a call at 
Sunderland Hall and Yair, but the old sociable broke down before we 
had got past the thicket, so we trudged all back on foot, and I wrote 
another page. This makes up the deficiency of yesterday. 

August 22. — I wrote four or five leaves, but begin to get aground 
for want of Indian localities. Colonel Ferguson's absence is unlucky, 
and half-a-dozen Qui Hi's besides, willing to write chits,^ eat tiffin, 
and vent all their Pagan jargon when one does not want to hear it ; 
and now that I want a touch of their slang, lo ! there is not one near 
me. Mr. Adolphus, son of the celebrated counsel, and author of a 
work on the Waverley Novels,^ came to make me a visit. He is a 
modest as well as an able man, and I am obliged to him for the deli- 
cacy with which he treated a matter in which I was personally so 
much concerned. Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton asked us to breakfast to- 
morrow. 

August 23. — Went to breakfast at Chief swood, which, with a cir- 
cuitous walk, have consumed the day. Found, in the first place, my 
friend Allan, the painter, busy about a picture, into which he intends 
introducing living characters — a kind of revel at Abbotsford. Sec- 
ond, a whimsical party, consisting of John Stevenson, the bookseller, 
Peter Buchan from Peterhead, a quiz of a poetical creature, and a 
bookbinder, a friend of theirs. The plan was to consult me about 
publishing a great quantity of ballads which this Mr. Buchan has col- 
lected. I glanced them over. He has been very successful, for they 
are obviously genuine, and many of them very curious. Others are 
various editions of well-known ballads. I could not make the man 
comprehend that these last were of little value, being generally worse 
readings of what was already published. A small edition published 
by subscription may possibly succeed. It is a great pity that few of 
these ballads are historical, almost all being of the romantic cast. 
They certainly ought to be preserved, after striking out one or two 

1 Persian cAtWy=a short note. Critical Remarks on the Series of Novels begin- 

ning with "Waverley," and an Attempt to as- 
» Letters to Richard Heber, Esq. , containing certain their Author. 8vo, London, 1821. 

19 



290 JOURNAL [August 

which have been sophisticated, I suppose by Mr. Buchan himself, which 
are easily distinguishable from the genuine ballads.^ No one but Burns 
ever succeeded in patching up old Scottish songs with any good effect. 

August 24. — Corrected proofs and wrote letters in the morning. 
Began a review upon Monteath's Planter for Lockhart.^ Other mat- 
ters at a stand. A drive down to Mertoun, and engaged to dine there 
on Sunday first. This consumed the day. 

August 25. — Mr. Adolphus left us this morning after a very agree- 
able visit. We all dined at Dr. Brewster's. Met Sir John Wright, 
Miss Haig,'etc. Slandered our neighbours, and were good company. 
Major John Scott there. I did a little more at the review to-day. 
But I cannot go on with the tale without I could speak a little Hin- 
dostanee — a small seasoning of curry-powder. Ferguson will do it if 
I can screw it out of him. 

August 26. — Encore review. Walked from twelve till three, then 
drove to Mertoun with Lockhart and Allan. Dined en famille, and 
home by half -past ten. We thought of adding a third volume to the 
Chronicles, but Gibson is afraid it would give grounds for a pretext 
to seize this work on the part of Constable's creditors, who seem de- 
termined to take any advantage of me, but they can only show their 
teeth I trust ; though I wish the arbitration was ended. 

August 27. — Sent off proofs in morning, revised in afternoon. 
Walked from one till four. What a life of uniformity ! Yet I never 
wish to change it. I even regret I must go to town to meet Lady 
Compton ^ next week. 

A singular letter from a lady, requesting I would father a novel 
of hers. That won't pass.'' 

Cadell writes me, transmitting a notice from the French papers 
that Gourgaud^ has gone, or is going, to London to verify the facts 
alleged in my history of Napoleon, and the bibliopolist is in a great 
funk. I lack some part of his instinct. I have done Gourgaud no 

J They were published under the title An- these remarkable documents, guessed that 

cient Ballads and Songs, 2 vols. 8vo, 1828. Gourgaud might be inclined to fix a personal 

2 The Forester^s Guide and Profitable Plant- quarrel on himself; and there now appeared 
er, reviewed in the Quarterly, Oct. 1827. See in the newspapers a succession of hints that 
also "On Planting Waste Lands," in Misc. the General was seriously bent on this pur- 
Prose Works, vol. xxi. pp. 1-76. pose. He applied as Colonel Grogg would have 

3 Daughter of Mrs. Maclean Clephane, and done forty years before to The Baronef'' [W. 
afterwards Marchioness of Northampton. Clerk].— Zt/e, vol. ix. pp. 142-3. 

* Scott's indorsation of this letter is char- A short time previously Gourgaud had had a 

acteristic — "Prodigious, bold request, Tom quarrel with Count Segur regarding the latter's 

Thumb." History of the Russian Campaign, to which he 

6 Among the documents laid before Scott in wrote a reply in 1825, and then fought a duel 

the Colonial Office, when he was in London at with the author in support of his allegations, 

the close of 1826, "were some which repre- In Scott's case, however, it came to nothing 

sented one of Bonaparte's attendants at St. beyond a paper war, which Sir Walter declined 

Helena, General Gourgaud, as having been to prolong, leaving the question to be decided 

guilty of gross unfairness, giving the English by the general public. It is due to Gourgaud 

Government private information that the Em- to state that on two occasions he saved Napo- 

peror's complaints of ill-usage were utterly Icon's life, though his subsequent information 

unfounded, and yet then and afterwards aid- to the Briti.sh Government did not tend to in- 

ing and assisting the delusion in France as to crease his popularity with the Bonapartists. 

the harshness of Sir Hudson Lowe's conduct He died at Paris in his sixty-ninth year on 

towards his captive. Sir Walter, when using July 25th, 1852. 



1827.] JOURNAL 291 

wrong : every word imputed to him exists in the papers submitted to 
me as historical documents, and I should have been a shameful cow- 
ard if I had shunned using them. At my years it is somewhat late 
for an affair of honour, and as a reasonable man I would avoid such 
an arbitrament, but will not plead privilege of literature. The coun- 
try shall not be disgraced in my person, and having stated why I 
think I owe him no satisfaction, I will at the same time most willing- 
ly give it to him. 

"II sera re9U, 

Biribi, 
A la fa9on de Barbara, 

Mon ami." 

I have written to Will Clerk to stand my friend if necessary. He has 
mettle in him, and thinks of my honour as well as my safety. 

August 28. — I am still bothering with the review, but gave Lock- 
hart fifteen leaves, which is something. Learned with regret that 
Williams leaves his situation of Rector of the New Academy. It is 
a shot in the wing of the institution ; for he is a heaven-born teacher. 
Walked at two till four along the thicket, and by the river-side, where 
I go seldom ; I can't say why, unless that the walk is less private 
than those more distant. Lockhart, Allan, and I, talk of an excursion 
to Kelso to-morrow. I have no friends there now. Yet once how 
many ! 

August 29. — Went on our little expedition, breakfasting at Mer- 
toun. Called at Fleurs, where we found Sir John S. and his whole 
family. The great lady received us well, though we had been very 
remiss in our duty. From that we went to Kelso, where I saw not a 
soul to acknowledge former acquaintance. How should I, when my 
residence there was before 1783, 1 fancy f The little cottage in which 
I lived with poor Aunt Jenny is still standing, but the great garden is 
divided betwixt three proprietors. Its huge platanus tree withered, 
I was told, in the same season which was fatal to so many of the spe- 
cies. It was cut down. The yew-hedges, labyrinths, wildernesses, 
and other marks that it had once been the abode of one of the Mil- 
lers connected with the author of the Gardener^ Dictionary (they were 
a Quaker family), are all obliterated, and the place is as common and 
vulgar as may be. The lady the cottage belongs to was very civil. 
Allan, as a man of taste, was much delighted with what he saw. 
When we returned, we found our party at home increased by Lady 
Anna Maria Elliot, who had been showing Melrose to two friends, 
Miss Drinkwaters. Lady M.'s wit and good-humour made the even- 
ing go pleasantly off. There were also two friends of Charles's, by 
name Paley (a nephew of the archdeacon) and Ashworth. They seem 
nice young men, with modesty and good-breeding. I am glad, as my 
mother used to say, that his friends are so presentable. Moreover, 

» Life, vol. i. pp. 47, 155-156. 



292 



JOURNAL 



[August, 1827. 



there came my old, right trusty, and well-beloved friend, John Rich- 
ardson, so we were a full party. Lady Anna Maria returned in the 
evening. Francis Scott also dined with us. 

August 30. — Disposed of my party as I best might, and worked 
at my review. Walked out at one, and remained till near five. Mr. 
Scott of Harden and David Thomson, W.S., dined with us. "Walked 
with Mr. Allan through Haxel Cleugh. 

August 31.— Went on with my review ; but I have got Sir Henry's 
original pamphlet,^ which is very cleverly written. I find I cannot 
touch on his mode of transplantation at all in this article. It involves 
many questions, and some of importance, so I will make another ar- 
ticle for January. Walked up the Rhymer's Glen with John Rich- 
ardson.'^ 



1 The Planters^ Guide, by Sir Henry Seton 
Steuart. 

2 In the North British Review, No. 82, there 
is an extremely interesting sketch of this learn- 
ed Peerage lawyer. He died in his 85th year, 
in 1864, at his country seat, Kirklands in Rox- 
burghshire, which he had purchased by Sir 
Walter's advice. 

The following amusing narrative of what 
took place on Tweedside when these two old 
friends were in their prime is given in Mr. 
Richardson's own words: — 

" On a beautiful morning in September, 1810, 
I started with Sir Walter from Ashiestiel. We 
began nearly under the Ruins of Elibank, and 
in sight of the 'Hanging Tree.' I only had a 
rod, but Sir Walter walked by my side, now 
quoting Izaak Walton, as, ' Fish me this stream 
by inches,' and now delighting me with a pro- 
fusion of Border stories. After the capture 
of numerous fine trout, I hooked something 
greater and unseen, which powerfully ran out 



my line. Sir Walter got into a state of great 
excitement, exclaiming, 'It's a fish! It's a 
fish ! Hold up your rod ! Give him line ! ' and 
so on. The rod, which belonged to one of his 
boys, broke, and put us both into great alarm ; 
but I contrived, by ascending the steep bank 
and holding down the rod, still to give play to 
the reel, till, after a good quarter of an hour's 
struggle, a trout, for so it turned out to be, was 
conducted round a little peninsula. Sir Walter 
jumped into the water, seized him, and threw 
him out on the grass. Tom Purdie came up a 
little time after, and was certainly rather dis- 
composed at my success. ' It will be some sea 
brute,' he observed; but he became satisfied 
that it was a fine river-trout, and such as he, 
as he afterwards admitted, had not been killed 
in Tweed for twenty years; and when I moved 
down the water, he went, as Sir Walter after- 
wards observed, and gave it a kick on the 
head, exclaiming, ' To be ta'en by the like o' 
him frae LunnonP " 



SEPTEMBER 

September 1. — Colonel Ferguson and Colonel Byers breakfasted; 
the latter from India, tlie nephew of the old antiquarian ;* but I had 
not an opportunity to speak to him about the Eastern information re- 
quired for the Chronicles. Besides, my review is not finished, though 
I wrought hard to-day. Sir William Hamilton and his brother. Cap- 
tain Hamilton, called ; also young Davidoff. I am somewhat sorry 
for my young friend. His friends permit him to remain too long in 
Britain to be happy in Russia. Yet this [is a] prejudice of those 
who suppose that when the institutions and habits by which they are 
governed come to be known to strangers, they must become exclu- 
sively attached to them. This is not so. The Hottentot returns 
from civilisation to the wild manners of his kraal, and wherefore 
should not a Russian resume his despotic ideas when returned to his 
country ? 

September 2. — This was a very warm day. I remained at home, 
chiefly engaged in arranging papers, as I go away to-morrow. It is 
lucky these starts happen from time to time as I should otherwise 
never get my table clear. At five o'clock the air became cooler, and 
I sat out of doors and played with the children. Anne, who had been 
at Mertoun the day before, brought up Anne and Elizabeth Scotf^ 
with her, and Francis has been with us since yesterday. Richardson 
left us. 

September 3. — Went on with my arranging of papers till twelve, 
when I took chaise and arrived at Melville Castle. Found Lord and 
Lady M. and the two young ladies. Dr. Hope, my old school-fellow 
James Hope^ and his son, made up our party, which was very pleas- 
ant. After they went away we had some private conversation about 
politics. The Whigs and Tories of the Cabinet are strangely divided, 
the former desiring to have Mr. Herries for Chancellor of the Excheq- 
uer, the latter to have Lord Palmerston, that Calcraft may be Secre- 
tary of War. The King has declared firmly for Herries, on which 
Lord Goderich with tears entreated Herries to remove the bone of 
contention by declining to accept. The King called him a blubber- 
ing fool. That the King does not like or trust the Whigs is obvious 
from his passing over Lord Lansdowne, a man who, I should sup- 

1 James Byers, 1733-1817. 3 James Hope, W.S., Scott's school- fellow, 

' Anne Scott of Harden, afterwards wife of died in Edinburgh 14th November, 1842. 

Lord Jerviswoode, and Elizabeth of Colonel 

Charles Wyudham. 



294 JOURNAL [Sept. 

pose, is infinitely better fitted for a Premier tlian Godericli. But he 
probably looks with no greater [favour] on the return of the High 
Tories. I fear he may wish to govern by the system of bascule^ or 
balancing the two parties, a perilous game.^ The Advocate'' also 
dined with us. 

September 4, YEdinburgK\. — Came into town after breakfast, and 
saw Gibson, whose account of affairs is comfortable. Also Will- 
iam Clerk, whom I found quite ready and willing to stand my friend 
if Gourgaud should come my road. He agrees with me that there 
is no reason why he should turn on me, but that if he does, rea- 
son or none, it is best to stand buff to him. It is clear to me that 
what is least forgiven in a man of any mark or likelihood is want of 
that article blackguardly called pluck. All the fine qualities of genius 
cannot make amends for it. We are told the genius of poets espe- 
cially is irreconcilable with this species of grenadier accomplishment.' 
If so, quel chien de genie ! Saw Lady Compton. I dine with her to- 
day, and go to Glasgow with her to-morrow. 

September 5. — Dined with Lady Compton yesterday, and talked 
over old stories until nine, our tete-a-tete being a very agreeable one. 
Then hence to my good friend John Gibson's, and talked with him 
of sundries. I had an odd dream last night. It seemed to me that 
I was at a panorama, when a vulgar little man behind me was making 
some very clever but impudent remarks on the picture, and at the 
same time seemed desirous of information, which no one would give 
him. I turned round and saw a young fellow dressed like a common 
carter, with a blue coat and red waistcoat, and a whip tied across him. 
He was young, with a hatchet-face, which was turned to a brick col- 
our by exposure to the weather, sharp eyes, and in manner and voice 
not unlike John Leyden. I was so much struck with his countenance 
and talents that I asked him about his situation, and expressed a wish 
to mend it. He followed me, from the hopes which I excited, and 
we had a dreadful walk among ruins, and afterwards I found myself 
on horseback, and in front of a roaring torrent. I plunged in as I 
have formerly done in good sad earnest, and got to the other side. 
Then I got home among my children and grandchildren, and there 
also was my genius. Now this would defy Daniel and the soothsay- 
ers to boot; nor do I know why I should now put it down, except 
that I have seldom seen a portrait in life which was more strongly 
marked on my memory than that man's. Perhaps my genius was 
Mr. Dickinson, papermaker, who has undertaken that the London 
creditors who hold Constable's bills will be satisfied with 10s. in the 
pound. This would be turning a genius to purpose, for 6s. 8d. is 
provided, and they can have no difficulty about 3s. 4d. These debts, 
for which I am legally responsible, though no party to their contrac- 

1 Greville, vol. i. pp. 110-113. ' See letter to Duke of Buccleuch on James 

2 Sir W. Rae, who was Lord Advocate from Hogg at p. 300. 
1819 to 1830. 



1827.] JOURNAL 295 

tion, amount to £30,000 odds. Now if they can be cleared for £1 5,000 
it is just so much gained. This would be a giant step to freedom. 
I see in my present comfortable quarters^ some of my own old fur- 
niture in Castle St., which gives me rather queer feelings. I remem- 
ber poor Charlotte and I having so much thought about buying these 
things. Well, they are in kind and friendly hands. 

Septembet' 6. — Went with Lady Compton to Glasgow, and had as 
pleasant a journey as the kindness, wit, and accomplishment of my 
companion could make it. Lady C. gives an admirable account of 
Rome, and the various strange characters she has met in foreign parts. 
I was much taken with some stories out of a romance called Manu- 
scrit trouve a Saraffosse, by a certain Count John Polowsky [Potocki ?], 
a Pole. It seems betwixt the style of Cazotti, Count Hamilton and 
Le Sage. The Count was a toiler after supernatural secrets, an adept, 
and understood the cabbala. He put himself to death, with many 
odd circumstances, inferring derangement. I am to get a sight of 
the book if it be possible. At Glasgow (Buck's Head) we met Mrs. 
Maclean Clephane and her two daughters, and there was much joy. 
After the dinner the ladies sung, particularly Anna Jane, who has 
more taste and talent of every kind than half the people going with 
great reputations on their backs. 

A very pleasant day was paid for by a restless night. 

September 7. — This day had calls from Lord Provost and Mr. 
Rutherford (William) with invitations, which I declined. Read in 
manuscript a very clever play (comedy) by Miss A. J. Clephane in 
the old style, which was very happily imitated. The plot was con- 
fused — too much taking and retaking of prisoners, but the dialogue 
was excellent. 

Took leave of these dear friends, never perhaps to meet all to- 
gether again, for two of us are old. Went down by steam to Colonel 
Campbell's, Blythswood House, where I was most courteously re- 
ceived by him and his sisters. We are kinsfolk and very old ac- 
quaintance. His seat here is a fine one ; the house is both grand 
and comfortable. 

We walked to Lawrence Lockhart's of Inchinnan, within a mile 
of Blythswood House. It is extremely nice and comfortable, far be- 
yond the style of a Scotch clergyman ; but Lawrence is wealthy. I 
found John Lockhart and Sophia there, returned from Largs. We 
all dined at Colonel Campbell's on turtle, and all manner of good 
things. Miss A. and H. Walker were there. The sleep at night 
made amends for the Buck's Head. 

September 8. — Colonel Campbell carried me to breakfast in Glas- 
gow, and at ten I took chaise for Corehouse, where I found my old 
friend George Cranstoun rejoiced to see me, and glad when I told 
him what Lord Newton had determined in my affairs. I should ob- 

» No. 10 Walker Street. 



296 JOURNAL [Sept. 

serve I saw the banks of the Clyde above Hamilton mucli denuded 
of its copse, untimely cut ; and the stools ill cut, and worse kept. 
Cranstoun and I walked before dinner. I never saw the great fall of 
Corehouse from this side before, and I think it the best point, per- 
haps ; at all events, it is not that from which it is usually seen ; so 
Lord Corehouse has the sight and escapes the tourists. Dined with 
him, his sister Mrs. Cunningham, and Corehouse. 

I omitted to mention in yesterday's note that within Blythswood 
plantation, near to the Bridge of Inchinnan, the unfortunate Earl of 
Argyle was taken in 1685, at a stone called Argyle's Stone. Blyths- 
wood says the Highland drovers break down his fences in order to 
pay a visit to the place. The Earl had passed the Cart river, and 
was taken on the Renfrew side. 

September 9. — This is a superb place of Corehouse's. Cranstoun 
has as much feeling about improvement as other things. Like all 
new improvers, he is at more expense than is necessary, plants too 
thick, and trenches where trenching is superfluous. But this is the 
eagerness of -a young artist. Besides the grand lion, the Fall of 
Clyde, he has more than one lion's whelp ; a fall of a brook in a 
cleugh called Mill's Gill must be superb in rainy weather. The old 
Castle of Corehouse is much more castle - like on this than from the 
other side. 

Left Corehouse at eight in the morning, and reached Lanark by 
half-past nine. I was thus long in travelling three miles because the 
postilion chose to suppose I was bound for Biggar, and was two 
miles ere I discovered what he was doing. I thought he aimed at 
crossing the Clyde by some new bridge above Bonnington. Break- 
fasted at Lanark with the Lockharts, and reached Abbotsford this 
evening by nine o'clock. 

Thus ends a pleasant expedition among the people I like most. 
Drawback only one. It has cost me £15, including two gowns for 
Sophia and Anne ; and I have lost six days' labour. Both may be 
soon made up. 

N.B. — We lunched (dined, videlicet) with Professor Wilson at 
Inverleithen, and met James Hogg.^ 

1 Scott's unwearied interest in James Hogg, Wilson, declared he was Burns's rival asasong- 

despite the waj'wardness of this imaginative writer, and his superior in anything relating to 

genius, is one of the most beautiful traits in his external nature ! indeed they wrote of him as 

character. Readers of Mr. Lockhart's Life do unsurpassed by poet or painter in his fairy 

not require to be reminded of the active part tales of ancient time, dubbing him Poet Lau- 

he took in promoting the welfare of the "Et- reate to the Queen of Elfland, and yet his un- 

trick Shepherd" on many occasions, from the refined manner tempted these friends to speak 

outset of their acquaintance in 1801 until the of him familiarly as the greatest hog in all 

end of his life. Apollo's herd, or the Boar of the Forest, etc., 

Hogg was a strange compound of boisterous etc. 
roughness and refinement in expression, and Wordsworth, however, on November 21, 1835, 
these odd contrasts surprised strangers such as when his brother bard had just left the sun- 
Moore and Ticknor. The former was shocked, shine for the sunless land, wrote from his heart 
and the latter said his conversation was a per- the noble lines ending — 
petual contradiction to the exquisite delicacy 

of Kilmenv " Death upon the Braea of Yarrow, 

The critics ot the day, headed by Professor ^^"''^ '^^ ^°'' st^^ph^d'^ ^y^-" 



1827.] JOURNAL 297 

September 10, [Ahhotsford]. — Gourgaud's wrath has burst forth in 
a very distant clap of thunder, in which he accuses me of combining 
with the ministry to slander his rag of a reputation. He be d — d for 
a fool, to make his case worse by stirring. I shall only revenge my- 
self by publishing the whole extracts I made from the records of the 
Colonial OflBce, in which he will find enough to make him bite his 
nails. Still I wonder he did not come over and try his manhood 
otherwise. I would not. have shunned him nor any Frenchman who 
ever kissed Bonaparte's breech. 

September 11. — Went to Huntly Burn and breakfasted with Colo- 
nel Ferguson, who has promised to have some Indian memoranda ready 
for me. After breakfast went to choose the ground for a new to din- 
plantation, to be added next week to the end of Jane's Wood. Came 
ner Lord Carnarvon and his son and daughter ; also Lord Francis 
Leveson Gower, the translator of Faust. 

September 12. — Walk with Lord Francis. When we return, be- 
hold ye ! enter Lady Hampden and Lady Wedderburn. In the days 
of George Square, Jane and Maria Brown,^ beauties and toasts. 
There was much pleasure on my side, and some, I suppose, on theirs ; 
and there was a riding, and a running, and a chattering, and an ask- 
ing, and a showing — a real scene of confusion, yet mirth and good 
spirits. Our guests quit us next day. 

September 13. — Fined a man for an assault at Selkirk. He pleaded 
guilty, which made short work. The beggarly appearance of the Jury 
in the new system is very worthy of note. One was a menial servant. 
When I returned, James Ballantyne and Mr. Cadell arrived. They 
bring a good account of matters in general. Cadell explained to me 
a plan for securing the copyright of the novels, which has a very 
good face. It appears they are going off fast ; and if the glut of 
the market is once reduced by sales, the property will be excellent, 
and may be increased by notes. James B. brought his son. Robert 
Rutherford also here, and Miss Russells. 

September 14. — In the morning wrote my answer to Gourgaud, 
rather too keen perhaps, but I owe him nothing ; and as for exciting 
his resentment, I will neither seek nor avoid it. 

Cadell's views seem fair, and he is open and explicit. His broth- 
ers support him, and he has no want of cash. He sells two or three 
copies of Bonaparte and one of the novels, or two, almost every day. 
He must soon, he says, apply to London for copies. Read a Refuta- 
tion, as it calls itself, of Napoleon's history. It is so very polite and 
accommodating that every third word is a concession — the work of a 
man able to judge distinctly on specific facts, but erroneous in his 
general results. He will say the same of me, perhaps. Ballantyne 
and Cadell leave us. Enter Miss Sinclairs, two in number, also a 



» Another, sister Georgiana, married General the Honourable Sir Alexander Hope, G.C.B., 
randfather of Mrs. Maxwell Scott. 



fe98 JOURNAL [Sept. 

translator, and a little Flemish woman, liis wife — very good-humoured, 
rather a little given to compliment ; name Fauconpret. They are to 
return at night in a gig as far as Kelso — a bold undertaking. 

September 16. — The ladies went to Church; I, God forgive me, 
finished the Chronicles^ with a good deal of assistance from Colonel 
Ferguson's notes about Indian affairs. The patch is, I suspect, too 
glaring to be pleasing ; but the Colonel's sketches are capitally good. 
I understand, too, there are one or two East Indian novels which have 
lately appeared. Naboclish ! vogue la galere ! 

September 17. — Received from James B. the proofs of my reply to 
General Gourgaud, with some cautious balaam from mine honest 
friend, alarmed by a Highland Colonel, who had described Gourgaud 
as a mauvais gargon, famous fencer, marksman, and so forth. I wrote 
in answer, which is true, that I would hope all my friends would trust 
to my acting with proper caution and advice ; but that if I were capa- 
ble, in a moment of weakness, of doing anything short of what my 
honour demanded, I would die the death of a poisoned rat in hole, 
out of mere sense of my own degradation. God knows, that, though 
life is placid enough with me, I do not feel anything to attach me to 
it so strongly as to occasion my avoiding any risk which duty to my 
character may demand from me. 

I set to work with the Tales of a Grandfather, second volume, 
and finished four pages. 

September 18. — Wrote five pages of the Tales. Walked from 
Huntly Burn, having gone in the carriage. Smoked my cigar with 
Lockhart after dinner, and then whiled away the evening over one of 
Miss Austen's novels. There is a truth of painting in her writings 
which always delights me. They do not, it is true, get above the 
middle classes of society, but there she is inimitable. 

September 19. — Wrote three pages, but dawdled a good deal ; yet 
the Tales get on, although I feel bilious, and vapourish, I believe I 
must call it. At such times my loneliness, and the increasing ina- 
bility to walk, come dark over me, but surely these mulligrubs be- 
long to the mind more than the body. 

September 22. — Captain and Colonel Ferguson, the last returned 
from Ireland, dined here. Prayer of the minister of the Cumbrays, 
two miserable islands in the mouth of the Clyde : " O Lord, bless 
and be gracious to the Greater and the Lesser Cumbrays, and in 
thy mercy do not forget the adjacent islands of Great Britain and 
Ireland." 

September 23. — Worked in the morning; then drove over to 
Huntly Burn, chiefly to get from the good-humoured Colonel the ac- 
curate spelling of certain Hindu words which I have been using un- 
der his instructions. By the way, the sketches he gave me of Indian 
manners are highly picturesque. I have made up my Journal, which 

1 Chronicles of the Canongate. First Series, ending with the story of The Surgeon^s Daughter. 



1827.] JOURNAL 299 

was three days in arrear. Also I wrought a little, so that the second 
volume of Grandfather's Tales is nearly half finished. 

September 24. — Worked in the morning as usual, and sent off the 
proofs and copy. Something of the black dog still hanging about 
me ; but I will shake him off. I generally affect good spirits in 
company of my family, whether I am enjoying them or not. It is 
too severe to sadden the harmless mirth of others by suffering your 
own causeless melancholy to be seen ; and this species of exertion is, 
like virtue, its own reward ; for the good spirits, which are at first 
simulated, become at length real.* 

September 25, [EdinburgK], — Got into town by one o'clock, the 
purpose being to give my deposition before Lord Newton in a case 
betwixt me and Constable's creditors. My oath seemed satisfactory ; 
but new reasons were alleged for additional discussion, which is, 1 
trust, to end this wearisome matter. I dined with Mr. Gibson, and 
slept there. J. B. dined with us, and we had thoughts how to save 
our copyright by a bargain with Cadell. I hope it will turn to 
good, as I could add notes to a future edition, and give them some 
value. 

September 26, \Abbotsford'\. — Set off in mail coach, and my horses 
met me at Yair Bridge. I travelled with rather a pleasant man, an 
agent, I found, on Lord Seaford's^ West Indian Estates. Got home 
by twelve o'clock, and might have been here earlier if the Tweed had 
not been too large for fording. I must note down my cash lest it 
gets out of my head ; " may the foul fa' the gear, and the blathrie 
o't," ' and yet there's no doing either with it or without it. 

September 27. — The morning was damp, dripping, and unpleas- 
ant ; so I even made a work of necessity, and set to the Tales like a 
dragon. I murdered M'Lellan of Bomby at Thrieve Castle ; stabbed 
the Black Douglas in the town of Stirling ; astonished King James 
before Roxburgh ; and stifled the Earl of Mar in his bath in the Can- 
ongate. A wild world, my masters, this Scotland of ours must have 
been. No fear of want of interest ; no lassitude in those days for 
want of work. 

"For treason, d' ye see, 
Was to them a dish of tea, 

And murther bread and butter." 

We dined at Gattonside with Mr. Bainbridge, who kindly presented 
me with six bottles of super-excellent Jamaica rum, and with a manu- 
script collection of poetry, said to be Swift's handwriting, which it 
resembles. It is, I think, poor Stella's. Nothing very new in it. 

September 28. — Another dropping and busy day. I wrought hard 
at the Historical Tales, which get on fast. 

September 29. — I went on with the little history which now {i.e. 

1 Mr. Lockhart justly remarks that this en- ' Charles Rose Ellis had been created Baron 
try "paints the man in his tenderness, his for- Seaford in 1826. 
titude, and happy wisdom." 3 gee Cromek's Reliques of Burns, p. 210. 



300 JOURNAL [Sept. 1827. 

vol. ii.) doth appropinque an end. Received in the evening [Nos. 37 
to 41 ?] of the Roxburghe publications. They are very curious, and, 
generally speaking, well selected. The following struck me : — An 
Italian poem on the subject of Floddenfield ; the legend of St. Rob- 
ert of Knaresborough ; two plays, printed from ms. by Mr. Hasle- 
wood. It does not appear that Mr. H. fully appreciated the light 
which he was throwing on the theatrical history by this valuable 
communication. It appears that the change of place, or of scene as 
we term it, was intimated in the following manner. 

In the middle of the stage was placed Colchester, and the sign of 
Pigot's tavern — called the Tarlton — intimated what part of the town 
was represented. The name was painted above. On one side of the 
stage was, in like manner, painted a town, which the name announced 
to be Maldon ; on the other side a ranger's lodge. The scene lay 
through the piece in one or other of these three places, and the en- 
trance of the characters determined where each scene lay. If they 
came in from Colchester, then Colchester was for the time the scene 
of action. When that scene was shifted to Maldon, it was intimated 
by the approach of the actors from the side where it was painted — a 
clumsy contrivance, doubtless, compared to changeable scenery ; yet 
sufficient to impress the audience with a sense of what was meant. 

September 30. — Wet, drizzling, dismal day. I finished odds and 
ends, scarce stirring out of my room, yet doing little to the purpose. 
Wrote to Sir Henry [Seton Steuart] about his queries concerning 
transplanted trees, and to Mr. Freeling concerning the Roxburghe 
Club books. I have settled to print the manuscript concerning the 
murder of the two Shaws by the Master of Sinclair. I dallied with 
the precious time rather than used it. Read the two Roxburghe 
plays ; they are by William Percy, a son of the eighth Earl of North- 
umberland ; worthless and very gross, but abounding with matter 
concerning scenery, and so forth, highly interesting to the dramatic 
antiquary. 

Note on the ^^ grenadier accomplishment''^ mentioned in p. 294. 

In a letter to the Duke of Buccleuch, of May, or not, and all that he had to do was to go to 

1818, Scott gives the following amusing account the Police Office and tell the charge he had to 

of an incident in the life of the Ettrick Shep- bring against the two Glasgow gentlemen. . . . 

herd : — The Glaswegians were greatly too many for him 

"Our poor friend Hogg has had an affair oj [in Court]. . . . They returned in all triumph 

honour. . . . Two mornings ago, about seven in and glory, and Hogg took the wings of the 

the morning, my servant announced, while I morning and fled to his cottage at Altrive, not 

was shaving in my dressing-room, that Mr. deeming himself altogether safe in the streets 

Hogg wished earnestly to speak with me. He of Edinburgh ! Now, although I do not hold 

was ushered in. and I cannot describe the half- valour to be an essential article in the compo- 

startled, half- humorous air with which he sition of a man like Hogg, yet I heartily wish 

said, scratching his head most vehemently, he could have prevailed on himself to swag- 

'Odd, Scott, here's twae fo'k's come frae Glas- ger a little. . . . But considering his failure in 

gow to provoke mey to fecht a duel.' 'A duel,' the field and the Sheriff Office, I am afraid 

answered I, in great astonishment, 'and what we must apply to Hogg the apology which is 

do you intend to do ?' 'Odd, I just locket them made for Waller by his biographer; 'Let us 

up in my room and sent the lassie for twae o' not condemn him with untempered severity 

the police, and just gie'd the men ower to their because he was not such a prodigy as the 

chairge. and I thocht I wad command ask you world has seldom seen— because his character 

what I should do. . . .' He had already settled included not the poet, the orator, and the 

for himself the question whether he was to fight hero. ' " 



OCTOBER 

October 1. — I set about work for two hours, and finished three 
pages ; then walked for two hours ; then home, adjusted sheriff proc- 
esses, and cleared the table. I am to set off to-morrow for Ravens- 
worth Castle, to meet the Duke of Wellington ;^ a great let off, I sup- 
pose. Yet I would almost rather stay and see two days more of 
Lockhart and my daughter, who will be off before my return. Per- 
haps. But there is no end to perhaps. We must cut the rope and 
let the vessel drive down the tide of destiny. 

October 2. — Set out in the morning at seven, and reached Kelso 
by a little past ten with my own horses. Then took the Wellington 
coach to carry me to Wellington — smart that. Nobody inside but 
an old lady, who proved a toy-woman in Edinburgh ; her head fur- 
nished with as substantial ware as her shop, but a good soul, I'se 
warrant her. Heard all her debates with her landlord about a new 
door to the cellar, etc., etc.; propriety of paying rent on the 15th 
or 2oth of May. Landlords and tenants have different opinions on 
that subject. Danger of dirty sheets in inns. We dined at Wooler, 
and I found out Dr. Douglas on the outside, son of my old acquaint- 
ance Dr. James Douglas of Kelso. This made us even lighter in 
mind till we came to Whittingham. Thence to Newcastle, where an 
obstreperous horse retarded us for an hour at least, to the great 
alarm of my friend the toy-woman. N.B. — She would have made a 
good feather-bed if the carriage had happened to fall, and her under- 
most. The heavy roads had retarded us near an hour more, so that 
I hesitated to go to Ravensworth so late ; but my good woman's 
tales of dirty sheets, and certain recollections of a Newcastle inn, in- 
duced me to go on. When I arrived the family had just retired. 
Lord Ravensworth and Mr. Liddell came down, however, and really 
received me as kindly as possible. 

October 3. — Rose about eight or later. My morals begin to be 
corrupted by travelling and fine company. Went to Durham with 
Lord Ravensworth betwixt one and two. Found the gentlemen of 

1 "The Duke was then making a progress under the new Premier, gaining ground every 
in the North of England, to which additional day. Sir Walter, who felt for the great Cap- 
importance was given by the uncertain state tain the pure and exalted devotion that might 
of political arrangements; the chance of Lord have been expected from some honoured sol- 
Goderich's being able to maintain himself as dier of his banners, accepted this invitation, 
Canning's successor seeming very precarious, and witnessed a scene of enthusiasm with 
and the opinion that his Grace must soon be which its principal object could hardly have 
called to a higher station than that of Com- been more gratified than he was." — Z/'/e, vol. 
mander of the Forces, which he had accepted ix. pp. 156-7. 



302 JOURNAL [Oct. 

Durham county and town assembled to receive the Duke of Welling- 
ton. I saw several old friends, and with difficulty suited names to 
faces, and faces to names. There was Headlam, Dr. Gilly and his 
wife, and a world of acquaintance besides, Sir Thomas Lawrence too, 
with Lord Londonderry. I asked him to come on with me, but he 
could not. He is, from habit of coaxing his subjects I suppose, 
a little too fair-spoken, otherwise very pleasant. The Duke arrived 
very late. There were bells and cannon and drums, trumpets and 
banners, besides a fine troop of yeomanry. The address was well 
expressed, and as well answered by the Duke. The enthusiasm of 
the ladies and the gentry was great — the common people were luke- 
warm.* The Duke has lost popularity in accepting political power. 
He will be more useful to his country it may be than ever, but will 
scarce be so gracious in the people's eyes ; and he will not care a 
curse for what outward show he has lost. But I must not talk of 
curses, for we are going to take our dinner with the Bishop of Dur- 
ham,' a man of amiable and courteous manners, who becomes his 
station well, but has traces of bad health on his countenance. 

We dined, about one hundred and forty or fifty men, a distin- 
guished company for rank and property. Marshal Beresford, and Sir 
John,^ amongst others. Marquis of Lothian, Lord Duncombe, Marquis 
Londonderry, and I know not who besides : 

"Lords and Dukes and noble Princes, 
All the pride and flower of Spain." 

We dined in the rude old baronial hall, impressive from its an- 
tiquity, and fortunately free from the plaster of former improvement, 
as I trust it will, from the gingerbread taste of modern Gothicisers. 
The bright moon streaming in through the old Gothic windows, made 
a light which contrasted strangely with the artificial lights within ; 
spears, banners, and armour were intermixed with the pictures of old, 
and the whole had a singular mixture of baronial pomp with the 
graver and more chastened dignity of prelacy. The conduct of our 
reverend entertainer suited the character remarkably well. Amid the 
welcome of a Count Palatine he did not for an instant forget the 
gravity of the Church dignitary. All his toasts were gracefully given, 
and his little speeches well made, and the more afEecting that the fail- 
ing voice sometimes reminded us that our aged host laboured under 
the infirmities of advanced life. To me personally the Bishop was 
very civil, and paid me his public compliments by proposing my health 
in the most gratifying manner.* 

1 See Correspondence of Princess Lieven and of each other— "and merry men were they." 
Earl Grey for Lord Grey's opinion, vol. i. p. 60. — j. 6. l. 

2 Dr. William Van Mildert had been appoint- ■* An eye-witness writes:— "The manner in 
ed to the See of Durham in 1826 on the death which Bishop Van Mildert proceeded on this 
of Dr. Shute Harrington. He died in 1836. occasion will never be forgotten by those who 

3 Admiral Sir John Breresford had some few know how to appreciate scholarship without 
years before this commanded on the Leith Sta- podantry, and dignity without ostentation, 
tion— when Sir Walter and he saw a great deal Sir Walter had been observed throughout the 



1827.] JOURNAL 303 

The Bishop's lady received a sort of drawing-room after we rose 
from table, at which a great many ladies attended. I ought not to 
forget that the singers of the choir attended at dinner, and sung the 
Anthem Non nobis Domine, as they said who understood them, very 
well — and, as I think, who did not understand the music, with an un- 
usual degree of spirit and interest. It is odd how this can be distin- 
guished from the notes of fellows who use their throats with as little 
feeling of the notes they utter as if they were composed of the same 
metal as their bugle-horns. 

After the drawing-room we went to the Assembly-rooms, which 
were crowded with company. I saw some very pretty girls dancing 
merrily that old-fashioned thing called a country-dance which Old 
England has now thrown aside, as she would do her creed, if there 
were some foreign frippery offered instead. We got away after mid- 
night, a large party, and reached Ravensworth Castle — Duke of Wel- 
lington, Lord Londonderry, and about twenty besides — about half- 
past one. Soda water, and to bed by two. 

October 4. — Slept till nigh ten — fatigued by our toils of yester- 
day, and the unwonted late hours. Still too early for this Castle of 
Indolence, for I found few of last night's party yet appearing. I had 
an opportunity of some talk with the Duke. He does not consider 
Foy's book^ as written by himself, but as a thing ^o^ up perhaps from 
notes. Says he knew Foy very well in Spain. Mentioned that he 
was,. like other French officers, very desirous of seeing the English 
papers, through which alone they could collect any idea of what was 
going on without their own cantonments, for Napoleon permitted no 
communication of that kind with France. The Duke, growing tired 
of this, at length told Baron Tripp, whose services he chiefly used in 
communication with the outposts, that he was not to give them the 
newspapers. "What reason shall I allege for withholding them?" 
said Baron Tripp. " None," replied the Duke. " Let them allege some 
reason why they want them." Foy was not at a loss to assign a rea- 
son. He said he had considerable sums of money in the English 
funds and wanted to see how Stocks fell and rose. The excuse did 
not, however, go down.'' I remember Baron Tripp, a Dutch noble- 
man, and a dandy of the first water, and yet with an energy in his 
dandyism which made it respectable. He drove a gig as far as Dun- 
robin Castle, and back again, without a whip. He looked after his 
own horse, for he had no servant, and after all his little establishment 
of clothes and necessaries, with all the accuracy oi .a petit-maitre. He 
was one of the best-dressed men, and his horse was in equally fine 

day with extraordinary interest— I should say ' Histoire de la guerre de la Peninsule sous 
enthusiasm. The Bishop gave his health with Napoleon, etc. Publi^e par Madame la Corn- 
peculiar felicity, remarking that he could re- tesse Foy. Paris, 4 vols. 8vo, 1827. See Croker, 
fleet upon the labours of a long literary life vol. i. p. 352. 
with the consciousness that everything he had 

written tended to the practice of virtue, and 2 This story is told also in Lord Stanhope's 

to the improvement of the human race." — Conversations with the Duke of Wellington. 

Hon. Henry Liddell. Life^ vol. ix. p. 160, 8vo, London, 1888, p. 54. 



304 JOURNAL [Oct. 

condition as if he had had a dozen of grooms. I met him at Lord 
Somerville's, and liked him much. But there was something exag- 
gerated, as appeared from the conclusion of his life. Baron Tripp 
shot himself in Italy for no assignable cause. 

What is called great society, of which I have seen a good deal in 
my day, is now amusing to me, because from age and indifference I 
have lost the habit of considering myself as a part of it, and have only 
the feelings of looking on as a spectator of the scene, who can neither 
play his part well nor ill, instead of being one of the dramatis per soncB\ 
and, careless what is thought of myself, I have full time to attend to 
the motions of others. 

Our party went to-day to Sunderland, where the Duke was brill- 
iantly received by an immense population, chiefly of seamen. The 
difficulty of getting into the rooms was dreadful, for we chanced to 
march in the rear of an immense Gibraltar gun, etc., all composed of 
glass, which is here manufactured in great quantities. The disturb- 
ance created by this thing, which by the way I never saw afterwards, 
occasioned an ebbing and flowing of the crowd, which nearly took me 
off my legs. I have seen the day I would have minded it little. The 
entertainment was handsome ; about two hundred dined, and appear- 
ed most hearty in the cause which had convened them — some indeed 
so much so, that, finding themselves so far on the way to perfect hap- 
piness, they e'en . . . After the dinner-party broke up there was a 
ball, numerously attended, where there was a prodigious anxiety dis- 
covered for shaking of hands. The Duke had enough of it, and I 
came in for my share ; for, though as jackal to the lion, I got some 
part in whatever was going. We got home about half -past two in the 
morning, sufficiently tired. The Duke went to Seaham, a house of 
Lord Londonderry's. After all, this Sunderland trip might have been 
spared. 

October 5. — A quiet day at Ravensworth Castle, giggling and mak- 
ing giggle among the kind and frank-hearted young people. Ravens- 
worth Castle is chiefly modern, excepting always two towers of great 
antiquity. Lord Ravensworth manages his woods admirably well, and 
Avith good taste. His castle is but half-built. Elections^ have come 
between. In the evening, plenty of fine music, with heart as well as 
voice and instrument. Much of the music was the spontaneous effu- 
sions of Mrs. Arkwright, who had set Hohenlinden and other pieces 
of poetry. Her music was of a highly-gifted character. She was the 
daughter of Stephen Kemble. The genius she must have inherited 
from her mother, who was a capital actress. The Miss Liddells and 
Mrs. Barrington sang the "The Campbells are coming," in a tone 
that might have waked the dead. 

October 6. — Left Ravensworth this morning, and travelled as far 

1 The present generation are apt to forget the (Cor. ii. p. 215) that Lord Ravensworth 's neigh- 
enormous sums spent in Parliamentary elec- hour, the Duke of Northumberland, will sub- 
tions; e.^., Mme. de Lieven tells Earl Grey scribe £100,000 towards the election of 1831. 



1827.J JOURNAL 305 

as Whittingham with Marquis of Lothian. Arrived at Alnwick to din- 
ner, where I was very kindly received. The Duke is a handsome 
man,* who will be corpulent if he does not continue to take hard ex- 
ercise. The Duchess very pretty and lively, but her liveliness is of 
that kind which shows at once it is connected with thorough princi- 
ple, and is not liable to be influenced by fashionable caprice. The 
habits of the family are early and regular ; I conceive they may be 
termed formal and old-fashioned by such visitors as claim to be the 
pink of the mode. The Castle is a fine old pile, with various courts 
and towers, and the entrance is magnificent. It wants, however, the 
splendid feature of a keep. The inside fitting up is an attempt at 
Gothic, but the taste is meagre and poor, and done over with too 
much gilding. It was done half a century ago, when this kind of 
taste was ill-understood. I found here the Bishop of [Gloucester], 
etc., etc. 

October 7. — This morning went to church and heard an excellent 
sermon from the Bishop of Gloucester;' he has great dignity of 
manner, and his accent and delivery were forcible. Drove out with 
the Duke in a phaeton, and saw part of the park, which is a fine one, 
lying along the Alne. But it has been ill-planted. It was laid out 
by the celebrated Brown,^ who substituted clumps of birch and Scot- 
tish firs for the beautiful oaks and copse which grows nowhere so 
freely as in Northumberland. To complete this, the late Duke did 
not thin, so the wood is in poor state. All that the Duke cuts down 
is so much waste, for the people will not buy it where coals are so 
cheap. Had they been oak-wood, the bark would have fetched its 
value ; had they been grown oaks, the sea-ports would have found a 
market. Had they been [larch], the country demands for ruder pur- 
poses would have been unanswerable. The Duke does the best he 
can to retrieve his woods, but seems to despond more than a young 
man ought to do. It is refreshing to see a man in his situation give 
so much of his time and thoughts to the improvement of his estates, 
and the welfare of the people. The Duke tells me his people in Keel- 
dar were all quite wild the first time his father went up to shoot there. 
The women had no other dress than a bed-gown and petticoat. The 
men were savage and could hardly be brought to rise from the heath, 
either from suUenness or fear. They sung a wild tune, the burden of 
which was Ourina, ourina, ourina. The females sung, the men danced 
round, and at a certain part of the tune they drew their dirks, which 
they always wore. 

We came by the remains of the old Carmelite Monastery of 
Hulne, which is a very fine object in the park. It Avas finished by 
De Vesci. The gateway of Alnwick Abbey, also a fine specimen, is 
standing about a mile distant. The trees are much finer on the left 

1 Hugh, third Duke of Northumberland. Duke of Northumberland, held at this time 

the See for Gloucester.— j. g. l. 
8 Dr. Bethell, who had been tutor to \,)iq 3 Launcelot Brown, 1715-17g2, 

20 



306 JOURNAL [Oct. 

side of the Alne, where they have been let alone by the capability- 
villain. Visited the enceinte of the Castle, and passed into the dun- 
geon. There is also an armoury, but damp, and the arms in indif- 
ferent order. One odd petard-looking thing struck me. — Mem. to 
consult Grose. I had the honour to sit in Hotspur's seat, and to see 
the Bloody Gap, where the external wall must have been breached. 
The Duchess gave me a book of etchings of the antiquities of Aln- 
wick and Warkworth from her own drawings.^ I had half a mind 
to stay to see Warkworth, but Anne is alone. We had prayers in the 
evening read by the Archdeacon.'* 

The Marquis of Lothian on Saturday last told me a remarkable 
thing, which he had from good authority. Just before Bonaparte's 
return from Elba there was much disunion at the Congress of Vienna. 
Russia and Prussia, conscious of their own merits, made great de- 
mands, to which Austria, France, and Britain were not disposed to ac- 
cede. This went so far that war became probable, and the very 
Prussian army which was so useful at Waterloo was held in readiness 
to attack the English. On the other hand, England, Austria, and 
France entered into a private agreement to resist, beyond a certain 
extent, Prussia's demands of a barrier on the Rhine, etc., and, what 
is most singular of all, it was from Bonaparte that the Emperor Alex- 
ander first heard of this triple alliance.^ But the circumstance of 
finding Napoleon interesting himself so far in the affairs of Europe 
alarmed the Emperor more than the news he sent him. On the same 
authority, Gneisenau and most of Bliicher's personal suite remained 
behind a house at the battle of Ligny, and sent out an officer from 
time to time, but did not remain even in sight of the battle, till Blii- 
cher put himself at the head of the cavalry with the zeal of an old 
hussar. 

October 8. — Left Alnwick, where I have experienced a very kind 
reception, and took coach at Whittingham at eleven o'clock. I find 
there is a new road to be made between Alnwick and Wooler, which 
will make the communication much easier, and avoid Remside Moor. 

Saw some fine young plantations about Whittingham suffering 
from neglect, which is not the case under the Duke's own eye. He 
has made two neat cottages at Percy's Cross, to preserve that ancient 
monument of the fatal battle of Hedgeley Moor. The stones mark- 
ing the adjacent spot called Percy's Leap are thirty-three feet asun- 
der. To show the uncertainty of human testimony, I measured the 
distance (many years since, it is true), and would have said and al- 
most sworn that it was but eighteen feet. Dined at Wooler, and 
reached home about seven o'clock, having left Alnwick at half-past 
nine. So it would be easy to go there to dinner from Abbotsford, 
starting at six in the morning, or seven would do very well. 

1 A quarto volume, containing 39 etchings ' Mr. Archdeacon Singleton.— j. g. l. 

(privately printed in 1823), still preserved at s Stanhope's iVofej, p. 24; and Cro&er, vol. ii. 

Abbotsford. p. 233. 



1827.] JOURNAL 307 

October ^^[Ahbotsford]. — No proofs here, which I think odd. of 
Jas. B. But I am not sorry to have a day to write letters, and be- 
sides I have a box of books to arrange. It is a bad mizzling day, 
and might have been a good day for work, yet it is not quite uselessly 
spent. 

October 10. — Breakfasted at Huntly Burn with the merry knight, 
Sir Adam Ferguson. When we returned we found a whole parcel of 
proofs which had been forgot yesterday at the toll — so here ends 
play and begins work. Dr. Brewster and Mr. Thornhill, The latter 
gave me a box, made of the real mulberry -tree. ^ Very kind of him. 

October 11. — Being a base melancholy weeping day I e'en made 
the best of it, and set in for work. Wrote ten leaves this day, equiv- 
alent to forty pages. But then the theme was so familiar, being 
Scottish history, that my pen never rested. It is more than a triple 
task. 

October 12. — Sent off proofs and copy, a full task of three pages. 
At one Anne drove me to Huntly Burn, and I examined the earthen 
fence intended for the new planting, and altered the line in some 
points. This employed me till near four, the time of my walking 
home being included. 

October 13. — Wrote in the forenoon. Lord Bessborough and 
Mr. and Mrs. Ponsonby called to see the place. His lady used to 
be civil to me in London — an accomplished and pleasing woman. 
They only stayed an hour. At dinner we had Lord and Lady Bath- 
urst, and my friend Lady Georgiana — also Marquis of Lothian and 
Lord Castlereagh, plenty of fine folks. Expected also the Lord Reg- 
ister and Mrs. Dundas, but they could not come. Lord Bathurst told 
me that Gourgaud had negotiated with the French Government to the 
last moment of his leaving London, and that he had been told so by 
the French Ambassador. Lord B. refused to see him, because he un- 
derstood he talked disrespectfully of Napoleon. 

October 14. — I read prayers to the company of yesterday, and we 
took a drive round by Drygrange Bridge. Lord B. told me that the 
late king made it at one time a point of conscience to read every 
word of every act of parliament before giving his assent to it. There 
was a mixture of principle and nonsense in this. Lord Lothian left 
us. I did a full task to-day, which is much, considering I was a good 
deal occupied. 

October 15. — My noble guests departed, pleased I believe with 
their visit. I have had to thank Lord Bathurst for former kindness. 
I respect him too, as one who being far from rich, has on the late oc- 
casion preferred political consistency to a love of office and its emol- 
uments. He seems to expect no opposition of a formal kind this 
next session. What is wonderful, no young man of talents seems to 
spring up in the House of Commons. I wonder what comes of all 

» Fro?i Stratford-on-Avon. 



308 JOURNAL [Oct. 

the clever lads whom we see at college. The fruit apparently does 
not ripen as formerly. Lord Castlereagh remained with us. I be- 
stowed a little advice on him. He is a warm-hearted young fellow, 
with some of the fashionable affectations of the age about him, but 
with good feelings and an inclination to come forward. 

October 16. — With all this racketing the work advances fast. The 
third volume of the Tales is now half finished, and will, I think, be a 
useful work. Some drizzling days have been of great use to its prog- 
ress. This visiting has made some dawdling, but not much, per- 
haps not more than there ought to be for such a task. 

I walked from Huntly Burn up the little Glen, which was in all 
the melancholy beauty of autumn, the little brook brawling and bick- 
ering in fine style over its falls and currents. 

October 17. — Drove down to Mertoun and brought up Elizabeth 
Scott to be our guest for some days or so. Various chance guests 
arrived. One of the most welcome was Captain MacKenzie of the 
Celtic Society and the 72d regiment, a picture of a Highlander in his 
gigantic person and innocent and generous disposition. Poor fellow, 
he is going to retreat to Brittany, to make his half-pay support a 
wife and family. I did not dare to ask how many. God send I 
may have the means of serving him. 

He told me a Maclean story which was new to me. At the bat- 
tle of Sheriffmuir that clan was commanded by a chief called Hector. 
In the action, as the chief rushed forward, he was frequently in situ- 
ations of peril. His foster-father followed him with seven sons, 
whom he reserved as a body-guard, whom he threw forward into the 
battle as he saw his chief pressed. The signal he gave was, " Another 
for Hector !" The youths replied, " Death for Hector !" and were all 
successively killed. These words make the sign and countersign at 
this day of the clan Gillian.' 

Young Shortreed dined with us and the two Fergusons, Sir Adam 
and the Colonel. We had a pleasant evening. 

October 19. — Wrought out my task, and better — as I have done 
for these several days past. Lady Anna Maria Elliot arrived unex- 
pectedly to dinner, and though she had a headache, brought her usual 
wit and good-humour to enliven us. 

October 20. — The day being basely muggy, I had no walk, which 
I was rather desirous to secure. I wrought, however ; and two-thirds 
of the last volume of Tales of my Grandfather are finished. I re- 
ceived a large packet of proofs, etc., which for some reason had been 
delayed. We had two of Dr. Brewster's boys to dinner — fine chil- 
dren ; they are spirited, promising, and very well-behaved. 

October 21. — Wrought till one o'clock, then walked out for two 
hours, though with little comfort, the bushes being loaded with rain ; 
but exercise is very necessary to me, and I have no mind to die of 

1 For the utilization of this story, see Fair Maid of Perth, published in the following year. 



1827.] JOURNAL 309 

my arm-chair. A letter from Skene, acquainting me that the Censors 
of the French press have prohibited the insertion of my answer to the 
man Gourgaud. This is their freedom of the press ! The fact is 
there is an awkward " composition " between the Government and 
the people of France, that the latter will endure the former so long as 
they will allow them to lull themselves asleep with the recollections 
of their past glory, and neither the one nor the other sees that truth 
and honesty and freedom of discussion are the best policy. He 
knows, though, there is an answer ; and that is all I care about. 

October 22. — Another vile damp drizzling day. I do not know 
any morning in my life so fit for work, on which I nevertheless, while 
desirous of employing it to purpose, make less progress. A hang- 
dog drowsy feeling wrought against me, and I was obliged to lay 
down the pen and indulge myself in a drumly sleep. 

The Haigs of Bemerside, Captain Hamilton, Mr. Bainbridge and 
daughter, with young Nicol Milne and the Fergusons, dined here. 
Miss Haig sings Italian music better than any person I ever heard 
out of the Opera-house. But I am neither a judge nor admirer of 
the science. I do not know exactly what is aimed at, and therefore 
cannot tell what is attained. Had a letter from Colin Mackenzie, 
who has proposed himself for the little situation in the Register 
House. I have written him, begging him to use the best interest in 
his own behalf, and never mind me. 

October 23. — Another sullen rainy day. "Hazy weather, Mr. 
Noah," as Punch says in the puppet-show.' I worked slow, how- 
ever, and untowardly, and fell one leaf short of my task. 

Went to Selkirk, and dined with the Forest Club, for the first 
time I have been there this season. It was the collar-day, but being 
extremely rainy, I did not go to see them course. JV.B. — Of all 
things, the greatest bore is to hear a dull and bashful man sing a face- 
tious song. 

October 24. — Vilely low in spirits. I have written a page and a 
half, and doubt whether I can write more to-day. A thick throbbing 
at my heart, and fancies thronging on me. A disposition to sleep, or 
to think on things melancholy and horrible while I wake. Strange 
that one's nerves should thus master them, for nervous the case is, 
as I know too well. I am beginning to tire of my Journal, and no 
wonder, faith, if I have only such trash as this to record. But the 
best is, a little exertion or a change of the current of thought relieves 
me. 

God, who subjects us to these strange maladies, whether of mind 
or body I cannot say, has placed the power within our own reach, 
and we should be grateful. I wrestled myself so far out of the 
Slough of Despond as to take a good long walk, and my mind is re- 



» See M. 6. Lewis's JburnaZ of a West Indian Proprietor. 8vo, Lond. 1834, p. 47: and Introduc- 
tion to Fair Maid of Perth, p. 16. 



SIO JOURNAL [Oct. 

stored to its elasticity. I did not attempt to work, especially as we 
were going down to Mertoun, and set off at five o'clock. 

October 25. — We arrived at Mertoun yesterday, and heard with 
some surprise that George had gone up in an air balloon, and ascend- 
ed two miles and a half above this sublunary earth. I should like to 
have an account of his sensations, but his letters said nothing serious 
about them. Honest George, I certainly did not suspect him of being 
so flighty ! I visited the new plantations on the river-side with Mrs. 
Scott ; I wish her lord and master had some of her taste for plant- 
ing. When I came home I walked through the Rhymer's Glen, and 
I thought how the little fall would look if it were heightened. When 
I came home a surprise amounting nearly to a shock reached me 
in another letter from L. J. S.^ Me thinks this explains the gloom 
which hung about me yesterday. I own that the recurrence to these 
matters seems like a summons from the grave. It fascinates me. I 
ought perhaps to have stopped it at once, but I have not nerve to do 
so. Alas ! alas ! — But why alas ? Humana perpessi sumus. 

October 26. — Sent off copy to Ballantyne. Drove over to Huntly 
Burn at breakfast, and walked up to the dike they are building for 
the new plantation. Returned home. The Fergusons dined ; and we 
had the kirn Supper.'' I never saw a set of finer lads and lasses, and 
blithely did they ply their heels till five in the morning. It did me 
good to see them, poor things. 

October 27. — This morning went again to Huntly Burn to break- 
fast. There picked up Sir Adam and the Colonel, and drove down 
to old Melrose to see the hounds cast off upon the Gateheugh, the 
high rocky amphitheatre which encloses the peninsula of old Mel- 
rose, the Tweed pouring its dark and powerful current between them. 
The galloping of the riders and hallooing of the huntsmen, the cry of 
the hounds and the sight of sly Reynard stealing away through the 
brakes, waked something of the old spirit within me — 

" Even in our ashes glow their wonted fires." 

1 On the 13th of October Sir Walter had re- out a drawback or misconstruction of my in- 

ceived a letter from "one who had in former structions;" 

happy days been no stranger," and on turning . , , , 

to the signature he found to his astonishment ^^" ^^^ '^^^^ 

that it was from Lady Jane Stuart, with whom " Were I to lay open my heart (of which you 

he had had no communication since the mem- know little indeed) you will find how it has and 

orable visit he had made to Invermay in the ever shall be warm towards you. My age [she 

autumn of 1796. The letter was simply a for- was then seventy-four] encourages me, and I 

mal request on behalf of a friend for permission have longed to tell you. Not the mother who 

to print some ballads in Scott's handwriting bore you followed you more anxiotisly (though 

which were in an album that had apparently secretly) with her blessing than I ! Age has 

belonged to her daughter, yet it stirred his tales to tell and sorrows to unfold. " 

nature to its depths. As is seen by his Journal Sir Walter resumed 

The substance of his reply may be gathered j^js personal intercourse with his venerable 

from the second letter, which he had just read friend on November 6th and continued it until 

before making this sad entry in his Journal.— ^gr death, which took place in the winter of 

Lady Jane tells him that she would convey to i8'29 —Ante, p. 265, and Life, vol. i. pp 329- 

him the Manuscript Book 336. 

— " as a secret and sacred Treasure, could I but a Kirn, the feast at the end of the harvest in 

know that you would take it as I give it with- Scotland. 



1827.] JOURNAL 311 

On return home I had despatches of consequence. John Gibson writes 
that Lord Newton has decided most of the grand questions in our 
favour. Good, that 1 Rev. Mr. Turner writes that he is desirous, by 
Lord Londonderry's consent, to place in my hands a quantity of orig- 
inal papers concerning the public services of the late Lord London- 
derry, with a view to drawing up a memoir of his life. Now this 
task they desire to transfer to me. It is highly complimentary ; and 
there is this of temptation in it, that I should be able to do justice 
to that ill-requited statesman in those material points which demand 
the eternal gratitude of his country. But then for me to take this 
matter up would lead me too much into the hackneyed politics of 
the House of Commons, which odi et arceo. Besides, I would have to 
study the Irish question, and I detest study. Item. — I might arrive 
at conclusions different from those of my Lord of Londonderry, and 
I have a taste for expressing that which I think. Fourthly, I think it 
is sinking myself into a party writer. Moreover, I should not know 
what to say to the disputes with Canning ; and, to conclude, I think 
my Lord Londonderry, if he desired such a thing at my hands, ought 
to have written to me. For all which reasons, good, bad, and indiffer- 
ent, I will write declining the undertaking. 

October 28. — Wrote several letters, and one to Mr. Turner, declin- 
ing the task of Lord Castlereagh's Memoirs,^ with due acknowledg- 
ments. Had his public and European politics alone been concerned, 
I would have tried the task with pleasure. I wrote out my task and 
something more, corrected proofs, and made a handsome remittance 
of copy to the press. 

October 31. — Just as I was merrily cutting away among my trees, 
arrives Mr. Gibson with a melancholy look, and indeed the news he 
brought was shocking enough. It seems Mr. Abud, the same Jew 
broker who formerly was disposed to disturb me in London, has giv- 
en the most positive orders to take out diligence against me for his 
debt of £1500. This breaks all the measures we had resolved on, and 
prevents the dividend from taking place, by which many poor per- 
sons will be great sufferers. For me the alternative will be more pain- 
ful to my feelings than prejudicial to my interest. To take out a se- 
questration and allow the persons to take what they can get will be 
the inevitable consequence. This will cut short my labour by several 
years, which I might spend and spend in vain in labouring to meet 
their demands. No doubt they may in the interim sell the liferent of 
this place, with the books and furniture. But, perhaps, it may be pos- 
sible to achieve some composition which may save these articles, as I 
would make many sacrifices for that purpose. Gibson strongly ad- 
vises taking a sequestration at all events. But if the creditors choose 

1 The correspondence of Robert, second Mar- and Sir Charles Stewart, Second and Third 

quis of Londonderry, was edited by his brother Marquesses of Londonderry. 3 vols. 8vo, Edin- 

in 1850, but there was no memoir published burgh, 1861. 
until Alison wrote the Lives of Lord Castlereagh 



312 JOURNAL [Oct. 1827. 

to let Mr. Abud have his pound of flesh out of the first cut, my mind 
will not be satisfied with the plan of deranging, for the pleasure of 
disappointing him, a plan of payment to which all the others had con- 
sented. We will know more on Saturday, and not sooner. I went 
to Bowhill with Sir Adam Ferguson to dinner, and maintained as 
good a countenance in the midst of my perplexities as a man need 
desire. It is not bravado ; I literally feel myself firm and resolute. 



NOVEMBER 

November 1. — I waked in the night and lay two hours in feverish 
meditation. This is a tribute to natural feeling. But the air of a 
fine frosty morning gave me some elasticity of spirit. It is strange 
that about a week ago I was more dispirited for nothing at all than I 
am now for perplexities which set at defiance my conjectures concern- 
ing their issue. I suppose that I, the Chronicler of the Canongate, 
v/ill have to take up my residence in the Sanctuary* for a week or so, 
unless I prefer the more airy residence of the Calton Jail, or a trip to 
the Isle of Man. These furnish a pleasing choice of expedients. It 
is to no purpose being angry at Ehud or Ahab, or whatever name he 
delights in. He is seeking his own, and thinks by these harsh meas- 
ures to render his road to it more speedy. And now I will trouble 
myself no more about the matter than I can possibly help, which will 
be quite enough after all. Perhaps something may turn up better 
for me than I now look for. Sir Adam Ferguson left Bowhill this 
morning for Dumfriesshire. I returned to Abbotsford to Anne, and 
told her this unpleasant news. She stood it remarkably well, poor 
body. 

November 2. — I was a little bilious to-night — no wonder. Had 
sundry letters without any power of giving my mind to answer them 
— one about Gourgaud with his nonsense. I shall not trouble my 
head more on that score. Well, it is a hard knock on the elbow ; I 
knew I had a life of labour before me, but I was resolved to work 
steadily ; now they have treated me like a recusant turnspit, and put 
in a red-hot cinder into the wheel alongst with [me]. But of what 
use is philosophy — and I have always pretended to a little of a prac- 
tical character — if it cannot teach us to do or suffer? The day is 
glorious, yet I have little will to enjoy it, but sit here ruminating 
upon the difference and comparative merits of the Isle of Man and 
of the Abbey. Small choice betwixt them. Were a twelvemonth 
over, I should perhaps smile at what makes me now very serious. 

Smile ! — No, that can never be. My present feelings cannot be 
recollected with cheerfulness ; but I may drop a tear of gratitude. I 
have finished my Tales^ and have now nothing literary in hand. It 
would be an evil time to begin anything. 

1 Holyrood remained an asylum for civil 2 The book was published during November, 

debtors until 1880, when by the Act 43 & 44 under the following title, Chronicles of the Can- 

Victoria, cap. 34, imprisonment for debt was ong^a^e (First Series). By the author of IFauer- 

abolished. For description of bounds see CAron- ley, etc.— sic itur ad astra, motto of Canon- 

icles of the Canongate, p. 1. (vol. xli.). gate arms. In two vols. The Two Drovers, 



314 JOURNAL [Nov. 

November 3. — Slept ill, and lay one hour longer than usual in the 
morning. I gained an hour's quiet by it, that is much. I feel a lit- 
tle shaken at the result of to-day's post. Bad it must be, whatsoever 
be the alternative. I am not able to go out, my poor workers wonder 
that I pass them without a word. I can imagine no alternative but 
either retreat to the Sanctuary or to the Isle of Man. Both shock- 
ing enough. But in Edinburgh I am always near the scene of action, 
free from uncertainty and near my poor daughter ; so I think I will 
prefer it, and thus I rest in unrest. But I will not let this unman me. 
Our hope, heavenly and earthly, is poorly anchored, if the cable parts 
upon the strain. I believe in God who can change evil into good ; 
and I am confident that what befalls us is always ultimately for the 
best. I have a letter from Mr. Gibson, purporting the opinion of the 
trustees and committee of creditors, that I should come to town, and 
interesting themselves warmly in the matter. They have intimated 
that they will pay Mr. Abud a composition of six shillings per pound 
on his debt. This is a handsome offer, but I understand he is deter- 
mined to have his pound of flesh. If I can prevent it, he shall not 
take a shilling by his hard-hearted conduct. 

November 4. — Put my papers in some order, and prepared for my 
journey. It is in the style of the Emperors of Abyssinia who pro- 
claim — Cut down the Kantuffa in the four quarters of the world, — for 
I know not where I am going. Yet, were it not for poor Anne's 
doleful looks, I would feel as firm as a piece of granite. Even the 
poor dogs seem to fawn on me with anxious meaning, as if there 
were something going on they could not comprehend. They probably 
notice the packing of the clothes, and other symptoms of a journey. 

Set off at twelve, firmly resolved in body and in mind. Dined at 
Fushie Bridge. Ah ! good Mrs. Wilson, you know not you are like 
to lose an old customer.' 

But when I arrived in Edinburgh at my faithful friend, Mr. Gib- 
son's, lo ! the scene had again changed, and a new hare is started.'* 

The Highland Widow, The Surgeon's Daughter. > Mrs. Wilson, landlady of the inn at Fushie, 

Edinburgh, printed for Cadell and Co., and one stage from Edinburgh, — an old dame of 

Simpkin Marshall. London 1827. some humour, with whom Sir Walter always 

The introduction to this work contains had a friendly colloquy in passing. I believe 

sketches of Scott's own life, with portraits of the charm was, that she had passed her child- 

his friends, unsurpassed in any of his earlier hood among the Gipsies of the Border. But 

writings; for example, what could be better her fiery Radicalism latterly was another source 

than the description of his ancestors the Scotts of high merriment. — j. g. l. 
of Raeburn, vol. xli. p. 61 : — 

" They werena ill to them, sir, and that is aye 

something ; they were just decent bien bodies. "^ The "new hare" was this: "It transpired 

Ony poor creature that had face to beg got an in the very nick of time, that a suspicion of 

awmous and welcome; they that were shamefaced usury attached to these Israelites without 

gaed by, and twice as welcome. But they keepit guile, in a transaction with Hurst and Robin- 

an honest walk before God and man, the Croft- inson, as to one or more of the bills for which 

angrys, and as I said before, if they did little the house of Ballantyne had become responsi- 

good, they did as little ill. They lifted their bla This suspicion, upon investigation, as- 

rents and spent them; called in their kain and sumed a shape sufficiently tangible to justify 

eat them; gaed to the kirk of a Sunday, bowed Ballantyne's trustees in carrying the point be- 

civilly if folk took a ff their bannets as they gaed fore the Court of Session; but they failed to 

by, and lookit as black as sin at them that keepit establish their allegation." — Life, vol. ix. pp. 

them on." 178-9. 



1827.] JOURNAL 315 

The trustees were clearly of opinion that the matter should be 
probed to the very bottom ; so Cadell sets off to-morrow in quest of 
Robinson, whose haunts he knows. There was much talk concerning 
what should be done, how to protect my honour's person, and to post- 
pone commencing a defence which must make Ahab desperate, be- 
fore we can ascertain that the grounds are really tenable. This much 
I think I can see, that the trustees will rather pay the debt than 
break off the trust and go into a sequestration. They are clearly 
right for themselves, and I believe for me also. Whether it is in hu- 
man possibility that I can clear off these obligations or not, is very 
doubtful. But I would rather have it written on my monument that 
I died at the desk than live under the recollection of having neglected 
it. My conscience is free and happy, and would be so if I were to 
be lodged in the Calton Jail. Were I shirking exertion I should 
lose heart, under a sense of general contempt, and so die like a poi- 
soned rat in a hole. 

Dined with Gibson and John Home. His wife is a pretty lady- 
like woman. Slept there at night. 

November 6. — I took possession of No. 6 Shandwick Place, Mrs. 
Jobson's house. Mr. Cadell had taken it for me ; terms £100 for 
four months — cheap enough, as it is a capital house. I offered £5 
for immediate entrance, as I do not like to fly back to Abbotsford. 
So here we are established, i.e. John Nicolson' and I, with good 
fires and all snug. 

I waited on L. J. S. ; an affecting meeting.' 

Sir William Forbes came in before dinner to me, high-spirited 
noble fellow as ever, and true to his friend. Agrees with my feelings 
to a comma. He thinks Cadell's account must turn up trumps, and 
is for going the vole.' 

^ A favourite domestic at Abbotsford, whose Yet in thy train come dove-eyed peace, 

name was never to be mentioned by any of . indiflference with her heart of snow ; 

Scott's family without respect and gratitude.- ^*NoVofn' ^neath \^"Zl ^Z'. 
Lxfe, vol. X. p. 3. 

2 Lady Jane Stuart's House was No. 12 Mait- o ^^^te to grant thy suppliant's prayer, 

land Street opposite Shandwick Place^ Mrs. Re^n°d ?rU'^4°&to'StJ^s^|a'riand fair, 
Skene told Mr. Lockhart that at Sir Walter's But take the thom that's in my heart, 

first meeting with his old friend a very painful 

scene occurred, and she added— "I think it Ah ! why do fabling poets tell 

highly probable that it was on returning from ^^^f,:^^ t'hf corsl^oTiT^bfLrTif ' 

this call that he committed to writing the And call thy slowest pace unlcind! 

verses, To Time, by his early favourite. ''—Life, 

vol. ix. p. 183. To me thy tedious feeble pace 

The lines referred to are given below— w^fT*' i*^* ° •''"^ *^* ."^IJF^V?^ ^r"* ' 

° With sighs I view morn's blushing face, 

Friend of the wretch oppress'd with grief, ^""^ ^^^ '""'* ^^^"^'"g ^''^ ™y *«"*• 

Whose lenient hand, though slow, supplies r,ifi> vol i nn ^<ll_^^fl 

The balm that lends to carl relief, "^ •^^' ^"^- '• PP' ^^^-^^O. 

That wipes her tears— that checks her sighs! 3 Sir William Forbes crowned his generous 

'Ti8 thine the wounded soul to heal f5''''*\*'f ^^''l^^^^^'f ^^ privately paying 

That hopeless bleeds for sorrow's smart, ^"6 whole of Abud's demand (nearly £2000) 

From stern misfortune's shaft to steal out of his own pocket — ranking as an ordinary 

The barb that rankles in the heart. creditor for the amount; and taking care at 

wu . ♦!, T, -^T. .V .V fl ^^® ^'™® **'^® t^at his old friend should be 

Though dimm'd the lustre of the eye, quietly in the general measures of the trus- 

And hope's vain dreams enchant no more. teeS. In fact it Was not until SOme tioie after 



316 JOURNAL [Nov. 

November T. — Began to settle myself this morning, after the hurry 
of mind, and even of body, which I have lately undergone. Com- 
menced a review — that is, an essay, on Ornamental Gardening for the 
Quarterly. But I stuck fast for want of books. As I did not wish 
to leave the mind leisure to recoil on itself, I immediately began the 
Second Series of the Chronicles of Canongate, the First having been 
well approved. I went to make another visit, and fairly softened 
myself like an old fool, with recalling old stories till I was fit for 
nothing but shedding tears and repeating verses for the whole night. 
This is sad work. The very grave gives up its dead, and time rolls 
back thirty years to add to my perplexities. I don't care. I begin 
to grow over-hardened, and, like a stag turning at bay, my naturally 
good temper grows fierce and dangerous. Yet what a romance to 
tell, and told I fear it will one day be. And then my three years of 
dreaming and my two years of wakening will be chronicled doubtless. 
But the dead will feel no pain. 

November 8. — Domum mansi, lanamfeci. I may borrow the old 
sepulchral motto of the Roman matron. I stayed at home, and be- 
gan the third volume of Chronicles, or rather the first volume of the 
Second Series.^ This I pursued with little intermission from morn- 
ing till night, yet only finished nine pages. Like the machinery of a 
steam-engine, the imagination does not work freely when first set 
upon a new task. 

November 9. — Finished my task after breakfast, at least before 
twelve. Then went to College to hear this most amusing good mat- 
ter of the Essay read.'* Imprimis occurs a dispute whether the mag- 
istrates, as patrons of the University, should march in procession be- 
fore the Royal visitors ; and it was proposed on our side that the 
Provost, who is undoubtedly the first man in his own city, should go 
in attendance on the Principal, with the Chairman of the Commission 
on the Principal's right hand, and the whole Commission following, 
taking pas of the other Magistrates as well as of the Senatus Acade- 
micus — or whether we had not better waive all question of prece- 
dence, and let the three bodies find their way separately as they best 
could. This last method was just adopted when we learned that the 
question was not in what order of procession we should reach the 
place of exhibition, but whether we were to get there at all, which 
was presently after reported as an impossibility. The lads of the 
College had so effectually taken possession of the class-room where 
the essay was to be read, that, neither learning or law, neither Magis- 

Sir William's death (in the following year) that prize had been offered for the best essay on 

Sir Walter learned what he had AouQ.—Life, the national character of the Athenians. This 

vol. ix. p. 179. prize, which excited great interest among the 

1 w T7-^7^»,K-,.?» n^.. r.^ f^v- ir^,-^ „^ D.wj. Edinburgh students, was won by John Brown 

» St. VaUnhne^s Bay or Fair Maid of Perth. p^tterson, and ordered to be read before the 

3 A Royal Commission, of which Sir Walter Commissioners, and the other public bodies, 

was a member, had been appointed in 1826 to with the result described by Sir Walter. It 

visit the Universities of Scotland. At the sug- was read on the 17th November before a dis- 

gestion of Lord Aberdeen, a hundred guinea tinguished audience. 



182V.] JOURNAL 317 

trates nor Magisters, neither visitors nor visited, could make way to 
the scene of action. So we grandees were obliged to adjourn the 
sederunt till Saturday the iVth — and so ended the collie-shangie. 

November 10. — Wrote out my task and little more. At twelve 
o'clock I went to poor Lady J. S. to talk over old stories. I am not 
clear that it is right or healthful indulgence to be ripping up old sor- 
rows, but it seems to give her deep-seated sorrow words, and that is 
a mental blood-letting. To me these things are now matter of calm 
and solemn recollection, never to be forgotten, yet scarce to be re- 
membered with pain. 

We go out to Saint Catherine's* to-day. I am glad of it, for I 
would not have these recollections haunt me, and society will put 
them out of my head. 

November 11. — Sir William Rae read us prayers. Sauntered 
about the doors, and talked of old cavalry stories. Then drove to 
Melville, and saw the Lord and Lady, and family. I think I never 
saw anything more beautiful than the ridge of Carnethy (Pentland) 
against a clear frosty sky, with its peaks and varied slopes. The hills 
glowed like purple amethysts, the sky glowed topaz and vermilion 
colours. I never saw a finer screen than Pentland, considering that 
it is neither rocky nor highly elevated. 

November 12. — I cannot say I lost a minute's sleep on account of 
what the day might bring forth ; though it was that on which we 
must settle with Abud in his Jewish demand, or stand to the conse- 
quences. I breakfasted with an excellent appetite, laughed in real 
genuine easy fun, and went to Edinburgh, resolved to do what should 
best become me. When I came home I found Walter, poor fellow, 
who had come down on the spur, having heard from John Lockhart 
how things stand. Gibson having taken out a suspension makes us 
all safe for the present. So we dined merrily. He has good hopes 
of his Majesty, and I must support his interest as well as I can. 
Wrote letters to Lady Shelley, John L., and one or two chance cor- 
respondents. One was singular. A gentleman, writing himself James 
Macturk, tells me his friends have identified him with Captain Mac- 
turk of St. Ronan's Well, and finding himself much inconvenienced 
by this identification, he proposes I should apply to the King to for- 
ward his restoration and advance in the service (he writes himself 
late Lieutenant 4th Dragoon Guards) as an atonement for having oc- 
casioned him (though unintentionally no doubt) so great an injury. 
This is one road to promotion, to be sure. Lieutenant Macturk is, I 
suppose, tolerably mad. 

We dined together, Anne, Walter, and I, and were happy at our 
reunion, when, as I was despatching my packet to London, 

In started to heeze up our howp' 

> Sir William Rae's house, in Liberton par- ' From the old song Andreio and his Cutty 

isb, near Edinburgh. Gun. 



318 JOURNAL [Nov. 

John Gibson, radiant with good-natured joy. He had another letter 
from Cadell, enclosing one from Robinson, in which-the latter pledges 
himself to make the most explicit affidavit. 

On these two last days I have written only three pages, but not 
from inaptitude or incapacity to labour. It is odd enough — I think 
it difficult to place me in a situation of danger, or disagreeable cir- 
cumstances, purely personal, which would shake my powers of mind, 
yet they sink under mere lowness of spirits, as this Journal bears evi- 
dence in too many passages. 

November 13. — Wrote a little in the morning, but not above a 
page. Went to the Court about one, returned, and made several 
visits with Anne and Walter. Cadell came, glorious with the success 
of his expedition, but a little allayed by the prospect of competition 
for the copyrights, on which he and I have our eyes as joint pur- 
chasers. We must have them if possible, for I can give new value 
to an edition corrected with notes. Nous verrons! Captain Mus- 
grave, of the house of Edenhall, dined with us. After dinner, while 
we were over our whisky and water and cigars, enter the merry 
knight. Misses Kerr came to tea, and we had fun and singing in the 
evening. 

November 14. — A little work in the morning, but no gathering to 
my tackle. Went to Court, remained till nigh one. Then came 
through a pitiless shower ; dressed and went to the christening of a 
boy of John Richardson's who was baptized Henry Cockburn. Read 
the Gazette of the great battle of Navarino, in which we have thumped 
the Turks very well. But as to the justice of our interference, I will 
only suppose some Turkish plenipotentiary, with an immense turban 
and long loose trousers, comes to dictate to us the mode in which we 
should deal with our refactory liegemen the Catholics of Ireland. 
We hesitate to admit his interference, on which the Moslem admiral 
runs into Cork Bay or Bantry Bay, alongside of a British squadon, 
and sends a boat to tow aside a fire-ship. A vessel fires on the boat 
and sinks her. Is there an aggression on the part of those who fired 
first, or of those whose manoeuvres occasioned the firing ? 

Dined at Henry Cockburn's with the christening party. 

November 15. — Wrote a little in the morning. Detained in Court 
till two ; then returned home wet enough. Met with Chambers, and 
complimented him about his making a clever book of the 1745 for 
Constable's Miscellany. It is really a lively work, and must have a 
good sale. Before dinner enter Cadell, and we anxiously renewed 
our plan for buying the copyrights on 19th December. It is most 
essential that the whole of the Waverley Novels should be kept under 
our management, as it is called. I may then give them a new impulse 
by a preface and notes ; and if an edition, of say 30 volumes, were to 
be published monthly to the tune of 5000, which may really be ex- 
pected if the shops were once cleared of the over-glut, it would bring 
in £10,000 clear profit, over all outlay, and so pay any sum of copy- 



1827.] JOURNAL 319 

money that miglit be ventured. I must urge these things to Gibson, 
for except these copyrights be saved our plans will go to nothing. 

Walter and Anne went to hear Madame Pasta sing after dinner. 
I remained at home ; wrote to Sir William Knighton, and sundry 
other letters of importance. 

November 16. — There was little to do in Court to-day, but one's 
time is squandered, and his ideas broken strangely. At three we 
had a select meeting of the Gas Directors to consider what line we 
were to take in the disastrous affairs of the company. Agreed to go 
to Parliament a second time. James Gibson [Craig] and I to go up 
as our solicitors. So curiously does interest couple up individuals, 
though I am sure I have no objection whatever to Mr. James Gibson- 
Craig.* 

November 17. — Returned home in early time from the Court. 
Settled on the review of Ornamental Gardening for Lockhart, and 
wrote hard. Want several quotations, though — that is the bore of 
being totally without books. Anne and I dined quietly together, 
and I wrote after tea — an industrious day, 

November 18. — This has been also a day of exertion. I was in- 
terrupted for a moment by a visit from young Davidoff with a pres- 
ent of a steel snuff-box [Tula work], wrought and lined with gold, 
having my arms on the top, and on the sides various scenes from the 
environs and principal public buildings of St. Petersburg — 2ijoli cadeau 
— and I take it very kind of my young friend. I had a letter from 
his uncle, Denis Davidoff, the black captain of the French retreat. 
The Russians are certainly losing ground and men in Persia, and will 
not easily get out of the scrape of having engaged an active enemy in 
a difficult and unhealthy country. I am glad of it; it is an over- 
grown power; and to have them kept quiet at least is well for the 
rest of Europe. I concluded the evening — after writing a double 
task — with the trial of Malcolm Gillespie, renowned as a most vent- 
urous excise officer, but now like to lose his life for forgery. A bold 
man in his vocation he seems to have been, but the law seems to 
have got round to the wrong side of him on the present occasion.'' 

November 19. — Corrected the last proof of Tales of my Grandfa- 
ther. Received Cadell at breakfast, and conversed fully on the sub- 
ject of the Chronicles and the application of the price of 2d series, 
say £4000, to the purchase of the moiety of the copyrights now in 
the market, and to be sold this day month. If I have the command 
of a new Edition and put it into an attractive shape, with notes, in- 
troductions, and illustrations that no one save I myself can give, I am 
confident it will bring home the whole purchase-money with some- 
thing over, and lead to the disposal of a series of the subsequent 
volumes of the following works, 

1 Sir James Gibson-Craig, one of the Whig 2 Gillespie was tried at Aberdeen before Lord 
leaders, and a prominent advocate of reform at Alloway on September 26, and sentenced to be 
the end of last century. executed on Friday, 16th November, 1827. 



320 JOURNAL [Nov. 

St. Ronan's Well 3 vols. 

Redgauntlet 3 " 

Tales of Crusaders 4 " 

Woodstock 3 " 

13 

make a series of 7 vols.! The two series of the Chronicles and oth- 
ers will be ready about the sarae time. 

November 20. — Wrought in the morning at the review, which I 
fear will be lengthy. Called on Hector as I came home from the 
Court, and found him better, and keeping a Highland heart. I came 
home like a crow through the mist, half dead with a rheumatic head- 
ache caused by the beastly north-east wind. 

" AVhat am I now when every breeze appals me ?" ^ I dozed for 
half-an-hour in my chair for pain and stupidity. I omitted to say yes- 
terday that I went out to Melville Castle to inquire after my Lord 
Melville, who had broke his collar-bone by a fall from his horse in 
mounting. He is recovering well, but much bruised. I came home 
with Lord Chief-Commissioner Adam. He told me a dictum of old 
Sir Gilbert Elliot, speaking of his uncles. " No chance of opulence," 
he said, " is worth the risk of a competence." It was not the thought 
of a great man, but perhaps that of a wise one. Wrought at my re- 
view, and despatched about half or better, I should hope. I incline 
to longer extracts in the next sheets. 

November 21. — Wrought at the review. At one o'clock I attend- 
ed the general meeting of the Union Scottish Assurance Company. 
There was a debate arose whether the ordinary acting directors should 
or should not have a small sum, amounting to about a crown a piece 
allotted to them each day of their regular attendance. The proposal 
was rejected by many, and upon grounds which sound very well, — 
such as the shabbiness of men being influenced by a trifling consider- 
ation like this, and the absurdity of the Company volunteering a 
bounty to one set of men, when there are others willing to act gratu- 
itously, and many gentlemen volunteered their own services ; though 
I cannot help suspecting that, as in the case of ultroneous offers of 
service upon most occasions, it was not likely to be acceptable. The 
motion miscarried, however — impoliticly rejected, as I think. The 
sound of five shillings sounds shabby, but the fact is that it does in 
some sort reconcile the party to whom it is offered to leave his own 
house and business at an exact hour ; whereas, in the common case, 
one man comes too late — another does not come at all — the attend- 
ance is given by different individuals upon different days, so that no 
one acquires the due historical knowledge of the affairs of the Com- 
pany. Besides, the Directors, by taking even this trifling sum of 
money, render themselves the paid servants of the Company, and are 

1 Slightl7 altered from Maabeth^ Act ii. Sc. % 



1827.] JOURNAL 321 

bound to use a certain degree of diligence, mucli greater than if they 
continued to serve, as hitherto, gratuitously. The pay is like enlist- 
ing nioney which, whether great or small, subjects to engagements 
under the Articles of war. 

A china-merchant spoke, — a picture of an orator Avith bandy legs, 
squinting eyes, and a voice like an ungreased cart-wheel — a liberty 
boy, I suppose. The meeting was somewhat stormy, but I preserved 
order by listening with patience to each in turn ; determined that 
they should weary out the patience of the meeting before I lost mine. 
An orator is like a top. Let him alone and he must stop one time or 
another — flog him, and he may go on for ever. 

Dined with Directors, of whom I only knew the Manager, Suther- 
land Mackenzie, Sir David Milne, and Wauchope, besides one or two 
old Oil Gas friends. It went off well enough. 

November 22. — Wrought in the morning. Then made arrange- 
ments for a dinner to celebrate the Duke of Buccleuch coming of 
age — that which was to have been held at Melville Castle being post- 
poned, owing to Lord M.'s accident. Sent copy of Second Series of 
Chronicles (rf Canongate to Ballantyne. 

November 23. — I bilked the Court to-day, and worked at the re- 
view. I wish it may not be too long, yet know not how to shorten 
it. The post brought me a letter from the Duke of Buccleuch, ac- 
quainting me with his grandmother, the Duchess-Dowager's death.^ 
She was a woman of unbounded beneficence to, and even beyond, the 
extent of her princely fortune. She had a masculine courage, and 
great firmness in enduring aflSiction, which pressed on her with con- 
tinued and successive blows in her later years. She was about eighty- 
four, and nature was exhausted ; so life departed like the extinction 
of a lamp for lack of oil. Our dinner on Monday is put off. I am 
not superstitious, but I wish this festival had not been twice delayed 
by such sinister accidents — first, the injury sustained by Lord Mel- 
ville, and then this event spreading crape like the shroud of Saladin 
over our little festival.^ G-od avert bad omens ! 

Dined with Archie Swinton. Company — Sir Alexander and Lady 
Keith, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, Clanronald, etc. Clanronald told us, 
as an instance of Highland credulity, that a set of his kinsmen, Bor- 
radale and others, believing that the fabulous Water Cow inhabited 
a small lake near his house, resolved to drag the monster into 
day. With this view they bivouacked by the side of the lake, in 
which they placed, by way of night-bait, two small anchors, such 
as belong to boats, each baited with the carcase of a dog slain 
for the purpose. They expected the Water Cow would gorge on 
this bait, and were prepared to drag her ashore the next morn- 
ing, when, to their confusion of face, the baits were found un- 

1 Lady Elizabeth Montagu, daughter of been displayed as a standard "to admonish the 
George Duke of Montagu. East of the instability of human greatness. "— 

2 Saladin's shroud, which was said to have Gibbon. 

21 



322 JOURNAL [Nov. 

touched. It is something too late in the day for setting baits for 
Water Cows.^ 

November 24. — Wrote at review in the morning. I have made my 
revocation of the invitation for Monday. For myself it will give me 
time to work. I could not get home to-day till two o'clock, and was 
quite tired and stupid. So I did little but sleep or dose till dress- 
ing-time. Then went to Sir David Wedderburn's, where I met three 
beauties of my own day, Margaret Brown, Maria Brown, and Jane 
Wedderburn, now Lady Wedderburn, Lady Hampden, and Mrs. Oli- 
phant. We met the pleasant L'ish family of Meath. The resem- 
blance between the Earl of Meath and the Duke of Wellington is 
something remarkably striking — it is not only the profile, but the 
mode of bearing the person, and the person itself. Lady Theodora 
Brabazon, the Earl's daughter, and a beautiful young lady, told me 
that in Paris her father was often taken for Lord Wellington. 

November 25. — This forenoon finished the review, and despatched 
it to Lockhart before dinner. Will Clerk, Tom Thomson, and young 
Frank Scott dined with me. We had a pleasant day. I have wrought 
pretty well to-day. But I must 

Do a little more 

And produce a little ore. 

November 26. — Corrected proof-sheets of Chronicles and Tales. 
Advised Sheriff processes, and was busy. 

Dined with Robert Dundas of Arniston, Lord Register, etc. An 
agreeable evening. 

November 27. — Corrected proofs in the morning, and attended 
the Court till one or two o'clock, Mr. Hamilton being again ill. I 
visited Lady S. on my return. Came home too fagged to do any- 
thing to purpose. 

Anecdote from George Bell. In the days of Charles ii. or his 
brother, flourished an old Lady Elphinstone, so old that she reached 
the extraordinary period of 103. She was a keen Whig, so did 
not relish Graham of Clavers. At last, having a curiosity to see so 
aged a person, he obtained or took permission to see her, and asked 
her of the remarkable things she had seen. " Indeed," said she, " I 
think one of the most remarkable is, that when I entered the world 
there was one Knox deaving us a' with his clavers, and now that I 
am going out of it, there is one Clavers deaving us with his knocks." 

1 The belief in the existence of the "Water ing failed owing to the smallness of the pumps, 

Cow " is not even yet extinct in the Highlands. though it was persevered in for two years, he 

In Mr. J. H. Dixon's book on Gairloch, 8vo, next tried poisoning the water by emptying 

1886, it is said the monster lives or did live in into the loch a quantity of quick lime ! !— What- 

Loch na Beiste! Some years ago the propri- ever harm was thus done to the trout none was 

etor, moved by the entreaties of the people, experienced by the Beast, which it is rumoured 

and on the positive testimony of two elders of has been seen in the neighbourhood as late as 

the P'ree Church, that the creature was hiding 1884 (p. 162). This transaction formed an ele- 

in bis loch, attempted its destruction by pump- ment in a case before the Crofters' Commis- 

ing and running ofif the water; this plan hav- sion at Aultbea in May, 1888. 



182V.] JOURNAL 323 

November 28. — Corrected proofs and went to Court. Returned 
about one, and called on the Lord Chief-Baron. Dined with the 
Duchess of Bedford at the Waterloo, and renewed, as I may say, an 
old acquaintance, which began while her Grace was Lady Georgiana.^ 
She has now a fine family, two young ladies silent just now, but they 
will find their tongues, or they are not right Gordons, a very fine 
child, Alister, who shouted, sung, and spoke Gaelic with much spirit. 
They are from a shooting-place in the Highlands, called Invereshie, 
in Badenoch, which the Duke has taken to gratify the Duchess's pas- 
sion for the heather. 

November 29. — My course of composition is stopped foolishly 
enough. I have sent four leaves to London with Lockhart's review. 
I am very sorry for this blunder, and here is another. Forgetting I 
had been engaged for a long time to Lord Gillies — a first family vis- 
it too — the devil tempted me to accept of the ofiice of President of 
the Antiquarian Society. And now they tell me people have come 
from the country to be present, and so forth, of which I may believe 
as much as I may. But I must positively take care of this absurd 
custom of confounding invitations. My conscience acquits me of 
doing so by malice prepense, yet one incurs the suspicion. At any 
rate it is uncivil and must be amended. Dined at Lord C. Commis- 
sioner's— rto meet the Duchess and her party. She can be extremely 
agreeable, but I used to think her Grace journaliere. She may have 
been cured of that fault, or I may have turned less jealous of my dig- 
nity. At all events let a pleasant hour go by unquestioned, and do 
not let us break ordinary gems to pieces because they are not dia- 
monds. I forgot to say Edwin Landseer was in the Duchess's train. 
He is, in my mind, one of the most striking masters of the modern 
school. His expression both in man and animals is capital. He 
showed us many sketches of smugglers, etc., taken in the Highlands, 
all capital. 

" Some gaed there, and some gaed here, 
And a' the town was in a steer, 
And Johnnie on his brocket mear, 
He raid to fetch the howdie." 

November 30. — Another idle morning, with letters, however. Had 
the great pleasure of a letter from Lord Dudley^ acquainting me that 
he had received his Majesty's commands to put down the name of ray 
son Charles for the first vacancy that should occur in the Foreign Of- 
fice, and at the same time to acquaint me with his gracious intentions, 
which were signified in language the most gratifying to me. This 
makes me really feel light and happy, and most grateful to the kind 
and gracious sovereign who has always shown, I may say, so much 

1 Daughter of Alexander, fourth Duke of the Foreign Department, was an early friend 
Gordon. of Scott" s. He had been partly educated in 

2 Lord Dudley, then Secretary of State for Edinburgh, under Dugald Stewart's care. 



324 JOURNAL [Nov. 1827. 

friendship towards me. Would to God the King^s errand might lie 
in the cadger's gait, that I might have some better way of showing 
my gratitude than merely by a letter of thanks or this private mem- 
orandum of my gratitude. The lad is a good boy and clever, some- 
what indolent I fear, yet with the capacity of exertion. Presuming 
his head is full enough of Greek and Latin, he has now living lan- 
guages to study; so I will set him to work on French, Italian, and 
German, that, like the classic Cerberus, he may speak a leash of lan- 
guages at once. Dined with Gillies, very pleasant ; Lord Chief-Com- 
missioner, Will Clerk, Cranstoun, and other old friends. I saw in the 
evening the celebrated Miss Grahame Stirling, so remarkable for her 
power of personifying a Scottish old lady. Unluckily she came late, 
and I left early in the evening, so I could not find out wherein her 
craft lay. She looked like a sensible woman. I had a conference 
with my trustees about the purchase (in company with Cadell) of the 
copyrights of the novels to be exposed to sale on the 19th December, 
and had the good luck to persuade them fully of the propriety of the 
project. I alone can, by notes and the like, give these works a new 
value, and in fact make a new edition. The price is to be made good 
from the Second Series Chronicles of Canongate, sold to Cadell for 
£4000 ; and it may very well happen that we shall have little to pay, 
as part of the copyrights will probably be declared mine by the ar- 
biter, and these I shall have without money and without price. Ca- 
dell is most anxious on the subject. He thinks that two years hence 
£10,000 may be made of a new edition. 



DECEMBER 

December 1. — This morning again I was idle. But I must wort, 
and so I will to-morrow whether the missing sheets arrive, ay or no, 
by goles ! After Court I went with Lord Wriothesley Russell,* to 
Dalkeith House, to see the pictures ; Charles K. Sharpe alongst with 
us. We satisfied ourselves that they have actually frames, and that, 
I think, was all we could be sure of. Lord Wriothesley, who is a 
very pleasant young man, well-informed, and with some turn for hu- 
mour, dined with us, and Mr. Davidoff met him. The Misses Kerr 
also dined and spent the evening with us in that sort of society which 
I like best. Charles Sharpe came in and we laughed over oysters 
and sherry, 

"And a fig for your Sultan and Sophi." 

December 2. — Laboured to make lee-way, and finished nearly seven 
pages to eke on to the end of the missing sheets when returned. I 
have yoked Charles to Monsieur Surenne, an old soldier in Napoleon's 
Italian army, and I think a clever little fellow, with good general 
ideas of etymology. Signor Bugnie is a good Italian teacher ; and 
for a German, why, I must look about. It is not the least useful lan- 
guage of the leash. 

December 3. — A day of petty business, which killed a holiday. 
Finished my tale of the Mirror;" went with Tom Allen to see his 
building at Lauriston, where he has displayed good taste — support- 
ing instead of tearing down or destroying the old chateau, which once 
belonged to the famous Mississippi Law. The additions are in very 
good taste, and will make a most comfortable house. Mr. Burn, archi- 
tect, would fain have had the old house pulled down, which I wonder 
at in him,^ though it would have been the practice of most of his 
brethren. When I came up to town I was just in time for the Ban- 
natyne Club, where things are going on reasonably well. I hope we 
may get out some good historical documents in the course of the 

1 The Duchess of Bedford's eldest son. building, and it left his hands in 1834 a bit of 
a My Aunt MargareVs Mirror. ^^'^ well-jointed mason-work with all Andrew 
^^^«.» -tau, yuico^cz/o/, Fairservice's " whigmaleeries, curhewurlies, 
3 Sir Walter need have expressed no sur- and open steek hems" most thoroughly re- 
prise at this architect's desire to pull down the moved!— i2o6 Roy, vol. viii. pp. 29-30. Fort- 
old house of Lauriston ! The present genera- unately the tower and crown were untouched, 
tion can judge of Mr. Burn's appreciation of and the interior, which was injured in a less 
ancient Architecture by looking at the outside degree, has, through the liberality and good 
of St. Giles, Edinburgh. — It was given over to taste of the late William Chambers, been re- 
his tender mercies in 1829, a picturesque old stored to its original stateliness. 



326 JOURNAL [Dec. 

winter. Dined at the Royal Society Club. At the society had some 
essays upon the specific weight of the ore of manganese, which was 
caviare to the President, and I think most of the members. But it 
seemed extremely accurate, and I have little doubt was intelligible to 
those who had the requisite key. We supped at Mr. Russell's, where 
the conversation was as gay as usual: Lieut-Col. Ferguson was my 
guest at the dinner. 

December 4. — Had the agreeable intelligence that Lord Newton 
had, finally issued his decree in my favour, for all the money in the 
bank, amounting to £32,000. This will make a dividend of six shil- 
lings in the pound, which is presently to be paid. A meeting of the 
creditors was held to-day, at which they gave unanimous approba- 
tion of all that has been done, and seemed struck by the exertions 
which had produced £22,000 within so short a space. They all sep- 
arated well pleased. So far so good. Heaven grant the talisman 
break not ! I sent copy to Ballantyne this morning, having got back 
the missing sheets from John Lockhart last night. I feel a little puz- 
zled about the character and style of the next tale. The world has 
had so much of chivalry. Well, I vvill dine merrily, and thank God, 
and bid care rest till to-morrow. How suddenly things are overcast, 
and how suddenly the sun can break out again ! On the 31st Octo- 
ber I was dreaming as little of such a thing as at present, when be- 
hold there came tidings which threatened a total interruption of the 
amicable settlement of my affairs, and menaced my own personal lib- 
erty. In less than a month we are enabled to turn chase on my per- 
secutors, who seem in a fair way of losing their recourse upon us. 
Non nobis, Domine. 

December 5. — I did a good deal in the way of preparing my new 
tale, and resolved to make something out of the story of Harry Wynd. 
The North Inch of Perth would be no bad name, and it may be pos- 
sible to make a difference betwixt the old Highlander and him of 
modern date. The fellow that swam the Tay, and escaped, would be 
a good ludicrous character. But I have a mind to try him in the se- 
rious line of tragedy. Miss Baillie has made the Ethling' a coward 
by temperament, and a hero when touched by filial affection. Sup- 
pose a man's nerves supported by feelings of honour, or say by the 
spur of jealousy supporting him against constitutional timidity to a 
certain point, then suddenly giving way, — I think something tragic 
might be produced. James Ballantyne's criticism is too much moulded 
upon the general taste of novels to admit, I fear, this species of rea- 
soning. But what can one do ? I am hard up as far as imagination 
is concerned, yet the world calls for novelty. Well, I'll try my brave 
coward or cowardly brave man. Valeat quantum. Being a Teind 
day, remained at home, adjusting my ideas on this point until one 
o'clock, then walked as far as Mr. Cadell's. Finally, went to dine at 

1 See Ethwald, Plays on the Passions, vol. ii. Lond. 1802. 



1827.] JOURNAL 327 

Hawktill with Lord and Lady Binning. Party were Lord Chief -Com- 
missioner, Lord Chief-Baron, Solicitor, John Wilson, Lord Corehouse. 
The night was so dark and stormy that I was glad when we got upon 
the paved streets. 

December 6. — Corrected proofs and went to Court. Bad news of 
Ahab's case. I hope he won't beat us after all. It would be morti- 
fying to have them paid in full, as they must be while better men 
must lie by. Spero meliora. 

I think that copy of Beard's Judgments is the first book which I 
have voluntarily purchased for nearly two years. So I am cured of 
one folly at least. ^ 

December 7. — Being a blank day in the rolls, I stayed at home and 
wrote four leaves — not very freely or happily; I was not in the vein. 
Plague on it ! Stayed at home the whole day. There is one thing I 
believe peculiar to me — I work, that is, meditate for the purpose of 
working, best, when I have a quasi engagement with some other book 
for example. When I find myself doing ill, or like to come to a 
stand-still in writing, I take up some slight book, a novel or the like, 
and usually have not read far ere my difficulties are removed, and I 
am ready to write again. There must be two currents of ideas going 
on in ray mind at the same time,'^ or perhaps the slighter occupation 
serves like a woman's wheel or stocking to ballast the mind, as it 
were, by preventing the thoughts from wandering, and so give the 
deeper current the power to flow undisturbed. I always laugh when 
I hear people say. Do one thing at once. I have done a dozen things 
at once all my life. Dined with the family. After dinner Lockhart's 
proofs came in and occupied me for the evening. I wish I have not 
made that article too long, and Lockhart will not snip away. 

December 8. — Went to Court and stayed there a good while. 
Made some consultations in the Advocates' Library, not furiously to 
the purpose. 

Court in the morning. Sent off Lockhart's proof, which I hope 
will do him some good. A precatory letter from Gillies. I must do 
Moliere for him, I suppose ; but it is wonderful that knowing the sit- 
uation I am in, the poor fellow presses so hard. Sure, I am pulling 
for life, and it is hard to ask me to pull another man's oar as well as 
my own. Yet, if I can give a little help, 

"We'll get a blessing wi' the lave, 
And never miss 't." ^ 

Went to John Murray's, where were Sir John Dalrymple and Lady, 
Sir John Cayley, Mr. Hope Yere, and Lady Elizabeth Yere, a sister 
of the Marquis of Tweeddale, and a pleasant sensible woman. Some 

1 Alluding to an entry in the Journal, that 2 See note to May 30, 1827, p. 261. 

he had expended 30s. in the purchase of the 

Theatre of God's Judgment. 1G12, a book which ^ Burns's lines To a Mouse. 

is still in the Abbotsford Library. 



328 JOURNAL [Dec. 

turn for antiquity too slie shows — and spoke a good deal of the pict- 
ures at Yester. Henderland was there too. Mrs. John Murray made 
some very agreeable music. 

Decemher 9. — I set hard to work, and had a long day with my new 
tale. I did about twelve leaves. Cadell came in, and we talked upon 
the great project of buying in the copyrights. He is disposed to 
finesse a little about it, but I do not think it will do much good ; all 
the fine arguments will fly off and people just bid or not bid as the 
report of the trade may represent the speculation as a good or bad 
one. I daresay they will reach £7000 ; but £8000 won't stop us, 
and that for books over-printed so lately and to such an extent is a 
pro-di-gi-ous price ! 

Decemher 10. — I corrected proofs and forwarded copy. Went out 
for an hour to Lady J. S. Home and dozed a little, half stupefied 
with a cold in my head — made up this Journal, however. Settled I 
would go to Abbotsford on the 24th from Arniston. Before that time 
I trust the business of the copyrights will be finally settled. If they 
can be had on anything like fair terms, they will give the greatest 
chance 1 can see of extricating my affairs. Cadell seems to be quite 
confident in the advantage of making the purchase upon almost any 
terms, and truly I am of his opinion. If they get out of Scotland it 
will not be all I can do that will enable me to write myself a free man 
during the space I have to remain in this world. 

I smoked a couple of cigars for the first time since I came from 
the country ; and as Anne and Charles went to the play, I muddled 
away the evening over my Sheriff-Court processes, and despatched a 
hugeous parcel to Will Scott at Selkirk. It is always something off 
hand. 

December 11. — Wrote a little, and seemed to myself to get on. I 
went also to Court. On return, had a formal communication from 
Ballantyne, enclosing a letter from Cadell of an unpleasant tenor. It 
seems Mr. Cadell is dissatisfied with the moderate success of the First 
Series of Chronicles ; ^ and disapproves of about half the volume al- 
ready written of the Second Series, obviously rueing his engagement. 
I have replied that I was not fool enough to suppose that my favour 
with the public could last for ever, and was neither shocked nor 
alarmed to find that it had ceased now, as cease it must one day soon ; 
it might be inconvenient for me in some respects, but I would be quite 
contented to resign the bargain rather than that more loss should be 
incurred. I saw, I told them, no other receipt than lying lea for a lit- 
tle, while taking a fallow-break to relieve my imagination, w^hich may 
be esteemed nearly cropped out. I can make shift for myself amid 
this failure of prospects ; but I think both Cadell and J. B. will be 

1 Ante, p. 313. The book had only been pub- Aunt MargareVs Mirror and the hairdos Jock 

lished two months. "The Second Series," appeared in the Keepsake of 1828, and were 

when published in the following ytar, con- afterwards included in vol. xli. of the Magnum 

tained St. Valentine's Eve, or the Fair Maid Opus, 
of Perth; the two stories objected to, viz. : My 



1827.J _ JOURNAL 329 

probable sufferers. However, they are very right to speak their mind, 
and may be esteemed tolerably good representatives of the popular 
taste. So I really think their censure may be a good reason for lay- 
ing aside this work, though I may preserve some part of it till an- 
other day. 

December 12. — Reconsidered the probable downfall of my literary 
reputation. I am so constitutionally indifferent to the censure or 
praise of the world, that never having abandoned myself to the feel- 
ings of self-conceit which my great success was calculated to inspire, 
I can look with the most unshaken firmness upon the event as far as 
my own feelings are concerned. If there be any great advantage in 
literary reputation, I have had it, and I certainly do not care for 
losing it. 

They cannot say but what I had the crown. It is unhappily in- 
convenient for my affairs to lay by my [work] just now, and that is 
the only reason why I do not give up literary labour ; but, at least, I 
will not push the losing game of novel-writing. I will take back the 
sheets now objected to, but it cannot be expected that I am to write 
upon return. I cannot but think that a little thought will open some 
plan of composition which may promise novelty at the least. I sup- 
pose I shall hear from or see these gentlemen to-day ; if not, I must 
send for them to-morrow. How will this affect the plan of going 
shares with Cadell in the novels of earlier and happier date ? Very 
much, I doubt, seeing I cannot lay down the cash. But surely the 
trustees may find some mode of providing this, or else with cash to 
secure these copyrights. At any rate, I will gain a little time for 
thought and discussion. 

Went to Court. At returuing settled with Chief -Commissioner 
that I should receive him on 26th December at Abbotsford. 

After all, may there not be, in this failure to please, some reliques 
of the very unfavourable matters in which I have been engaged of 
late, — the threat of imprisonment, the resolution to become insolvent? 
I cannot feel that there is. What I suffer by is the difficulty of not 
setting my foot upon such ground as I have trod before, and thus in- 
stead of attaining novelty I lose spirit and nature. On the other hand, 
who would thank me for "repented sheets"? Here is a good joke 
enough, lost to all who have not known the Clerk's table before the 
Jurisdiction Act. 

My two learned Thebans are arrived, and departed after a long 
consultation. They deprecated a fallow-break as ruin. I set before 
them my own sense of the difficulties and risks in which I must be 
involved by perseverance, and showed them I could occupy my own 
time as well for six months or a twelvemonth, and let the public 
gather an appetite. They replied (and therein was some risk) that 
the expectation would in that case be so much augmented that it 
would be impossible for any mortal to gratify it. To this is to be 
added what they did not touch upon — the risk of being thrust aside 



330 JOURNAL [Dec. 

altogether, whicli is the case with the horses that neglect keeping 
the lead when once they have got it. Finally, we resolved the pres- 
ent work should go on, leaving out some parts of the Introduction 
which they object to. They are good specimens of the public taste 
in general ; and it is far best to indulge and yield to them, unless I 
was very, very certain that I was right and they wrong. Besides, I 
am not afraid of their being hypercritical in the circumstances, being 
both sensible men, and not inclined to sacrifice chance of solid profit 
to the vagaries of critical taste. So the word is " as you were." 

December 13. — A letter from Lockhart announcing that Murray 
of Albemarle Street would willingly give me my own terms for a 
volume on the subject of planting and landscape gardening. This 
will amuse me very much indeed. Another proposal invites me, on 
the part of Colburn, to take charge of the Garrick papers. The 
papers are to be edited by Colman, and then it is proposed to me to 
write a life of Garrick in quarto.^ Lockhart refused a thousand 
pounds which were offered, and carte blanche was then sent. But I 
will not budge. My book and Colman's would run each other down. 
It is an attempt to get more from the public out of the subject than 
they will endure. Besides, my name would be only useful in the 
way of puff, for I really know nothing of the subject. So I will re- 
fuse ; that 's flat. 

Having turned over ray thoughts with some anxiety about the 
important subject of yesterday, I think we have done for the best. 
If I can rally this time, as I did in the Crusaders, why, there is the 
old trade open yet. If not, retirement will come gracefully after my 
failure. I must get the return of the sales of the three or four last 
novels, so as to judge what style of composition has best answered. 
Add to this, giving up just now loses £4000 to the trustees, which 
they would not understand, whatever may be my nice authorial feel- 
ings. And moreover, it ensures the purchase of the copyrights — i.e. 
almost ensures them. 

December 14. — Summoned to pay arrears of our unhappy Oil Gas 
concern — £140 — which I performed by draft on Mr. Cadell. This 
will pinch a little close, but it is a debt of honour, and must be paid. 
The public will never bear a public man who shuns either to draw 
his purse or his sword, when there is an open and honest demand on 
him. 

December 15. — Worked in the morning on the sheets which are 
to be cancelled, and on the Tale of St. Valentine'' s Eve — a good title, 
by the way. Had the usual quantum sufficit of the Court, which, if 
it did not dissipate one's attention so much, is rather an amusement 
than otherwise. But the plague is to fix one's attention to the stick- 
ing point, after it has been squandered about for two or three hours 

1 The Garrick papers were published under 4to, London, 1831-32. [Edited by James Boa- 
the title Private Correspondence of David Gar- den.] 
nek, illustrated with notes and Memoir. 2 vols. 



1827.] JOURNAL 331 

in such a way. It keeps one, however, in the course and stream of 
actual life, which is a great advantage to a literary man. 

I missed an appointment, for which I am very sorry. It was 
about our Advocates' Library, which is to be rebuilt. During all my 
life we have mismanaged the large funds expended on the rooms of 
our library, totally mistaking the objects for which a library is built; 
and instead of taking a general and steady view of the subject, patch- 
ing up disconnected and ill-sized rooms, totally unequal to answer 
the accommodation demanded, and bestowing an absurd degree of 
ornament and finery upon the internal finishing. All this should be 
reversed: the new library should be calculated upon a plan which 
ought to suffice for all the nineteenth century at least, and for that 
purpose should admit of being executed progressively ; then there 
should be no ornament other than that of strict architectural pro- 
portion, and the rooms should be accessible one through another, 
but divided with so many partitions, as to give ample room for 
shelves. These small rooms would also facilitate the purposes of 
study. Something of a lounging room would not be amiss, which 
might serve for meetings of Faculty occasionally. I ought to take 
some interest in all this, and I do. So 1 will attend the next meet- 
ing of committee. Dined at Baron Hume's, and met General Camp- 
bell of Lochnell, and his lady. 

December 16. — Worked hard to-day and only took a half hour's 
walk with Hector Macdonald ! Colin Mackenzie unwell ; his asthma 
seems rather to increase, notwithstanding his foreign trip ! Alas ! 
long-seated complaints defy Italian climate. We had a small party 
to dinner. Captain and Mrs. Hamilton, Davidoff, Frank Scott, Har- 
den, and his chum Charles Baillie, second son of Mellerstain, who 
seems a clever young man.^ Two or three of the party stayed to 
take wine and water. 

Becemher 17. — Sent off the beginning of the Chronicles to Ballan- 
tyne. I hate cancels ; they are a double labour. 

Mr. Cowan, Trustee for Constable's creditors, called in the morn- 
ing by appointment, and we talked about the upset price of the 
copyrights of Waverley, etc. I frankly told him that I was so much 
concerned that they should remain more or less under my control, 
that I was willing, with the advice of my trustees, to offer a larger 
upset than that of £4750, which had been fixed, and that I proposed 
the price set up should be £250 for the poetry, Paul's letters, etc., 
and £5250 for the novels, in all £5500; but that I made this pro- 
posal under the condition, that in case no bidding should ensue, then 
the copyrights should be mine so soon as the sale was adjourned, 
without any one being permitted to bid after the sale. It is to be 
hoped this high price will 

"Fright the fuds 
Of the pock-puds." 

1 Afterwards Judge in the Court of Session under the title of Lord Jerviswoode. 



332 JOTJHNAL [Dec. 

This speculation may be for good or for evil, but it tends incalcu- 
lably to increase the value of such copyrights as remain in my own 
person ; and, if a handsome and cheap edition of the whole, with 
notes, can be instituted in conformity with Cadell's plan, it must 
prove a mine of wealth, three-fourths of which will belong to me or 
my creditors. It is possible, no doubt, that the works may lose their 
effect on the public mind ; but this must be risked, and I think the 
chances are greatly in our favour. Death (my own I mean) would 
improve the property, since an edition with a Life would sell like 
wildfire. Perhaps those who read this prophecy may shake their 
heads and say, "Poor fellow, he little thought how he should see the 
public interest in him and his extinguished even during his natural 
existence." It may be so, but I will hope better. This I know, 
that no literary speculation ever succeeded with me but where my 
own works were concerned ; and that, on the other hand, these have 
rarely failed. And so — Vogue la galere ! 

Dined with the Lord Chief -Commissioner, and met Lord and Lady 
Binning, Lord and Lady Abercromby, Sir Robert O'Callaghan, etc. 
These dinners put off time well enough, and I write so painfully by 
candle-light that they do not greatly interfere with business. 

December 18. — Poor Huntly Gordon writes me in despair about 
£180 of debt which he has incurred. He wishes to publish two 
sermons which I wrote for him when he was taking orders ; but he 
would get little money for them without my name, and that is at 
present out of the question. People would cry out against the unde- 
sired and unwelcome zeal of him who stretched out his hands to help 
the ark with the best intentions, and cry sacrilege. And yet they 
w^ould do me gross injustice, for I would, if called upon, die a mar- 
tyr for the Christian rehgion, so completely is (in my poor opinion) 
its divine origin proved by its beneficial effects on the state of society. 
Were we but to name the abolition of slavery and of polygamy, how 
much has in these two words been granted to mankind by the lessons 
of our Saviour ! ^ 

December 19. — Wrought upon an introduction to the notices which 
have been recovered of George Bannatyne,'' author, or rather tran- 
scriber, of the famous Repository of Scottish Poetry, generally known 
by the Bannatyne ms. They are very jejune these same notices — a 
mere record of matters of business, putting forth and calling in of 

1 A few days later, however, the following " Pray do not think of returning any thanks 
reply was sent:— "Dear Gordon,— As I have about this; it is enough that I know it is likely 
no money to spare at present, I find it neces- to serve your purpose. But use the funds aris- 
sary to make a sacrifice of my own scruples to ing from this unexpected source with pru- 
relieve you from serious difficulties. The en- deuce, for such fountains do not spring up at 
closed will entitle you to deal w-ith any respect- every place of the desert. I am, in haste, ever 
able bookseller. You must tell the history in yours most truly, AValter Scott." — Life^ vol. ix. 
your own way as shortly as possible. All that p. 205. 
is necessary to say is that the discourses were 
written to oblige a young friend. It is under- 
stood my name is not to be put in the title- " Issued in 1829 as No. 33 of the Bannatyne 
page, or blazed at full length in the preface. Club Books. Memorials of George Bannafyne, 
You may trust that to the newspapers. 1545-1608, with Memoir by Sir Walter Scott. 



1827.] JOURNAL 333 

sums of money, and such like. Yet it is a satisfaction to learn that 
this great benefactor to the literature of Scotland lived a prosperous 
life, and enjoyed the pleasures of domestic society, and, in a time pe- 
culiarly perilous, lived unmolested and died in quiet. 

At eleven o'clock I had an appointment with a person unknown. 
A youth had written me, demanding an audience. I excused myself 
by'^alleging the want of leisure, and my dislike to communicate with a 
person perfectly unknown on unknown business. The application was 
renewed, and with an ardour which left me no alternative, so I named 
eleven this day. I am too much accustomed to the usual cant of the 
followers of the muses who endeavour by flattery to make their bad 
stale butter make amends for their stinking fish. I am pretty well 
acquainted with that sort of thing. I have had madmen on my hands 
too, and once nearly was Kotzebued by a lad of the name of Sharpe. 
All this gave me some curiosity, but it was lost in attending to the 
task I was engaged in; when the door opened and in walked a young 
woman of middling rank and rather good address, but something re- 
sembling our secretary David Laing, if dressed in female habiliments. 
There was the awkwardness of a moment in endeavouring to make 
me understand that she was the visitor to whom I had given the as- 
signation. Then there were a few tears and sighs. " I fear. Madam, 
this relates to some tale of great distress." " By no means, sir ;" and 
her countenance cleared up. Still there was a pause; at last she asked 
if it were possible for her to see the king. I apprehended then that 
she was a little mad, and proceeded to assure her that the king's sec- 
retary received all such applications as were made to his Majesty, and 
disposed of them. Then came the mystery. She wished to relieve 
herself from a state of bondage, and to be rendered capable of main- 
taining herself by acquiring knowledge. I inquired what. were her 
immediate circumstances, and found she resided with an uncle and 
aunt. Not thinking the case without hope, I preached the old doc- 
trine of patience and resignation, I suppose with the usual effect. 

Went to the Bannatyne Club ; and on the way met Cadell out of 
breath, coming to say he had bought the copyrights after a smart 
contention. Of this to-morrow. There was little to do at the club. 

Afterwards dined with Lord and Lady Abercromby, where I met 
my old and kind friend. Major Buchanan of Cambusmore. His fa- 
ther was one of those from whom I gained much information about 
the old Highlanders, and at whose house I spent many merry days in 

my youth. ^ The last time I saw old Cambusmore was in . He 

sat up an hour later on the occasion, though then eighty-five. I shall 
never forget him, and was delighted to see the Major, who comes sel- 
dom to town. 



1 It was thus that the scenery of Loch Ka- of the Lake was a labour of love, and no less so 

trine came to be so associated with the recollec- to recall the manners and incidents introduced, 

tion of many a dear friend and merry expedi- —Life, vol. i. p. 296. 
lion of former days, that to compose the Lady 



334 JOURNAL [Dec. 

Besemher 20. — x\nent the copyriglits — the pock-puds were not 
frightened by our high price. They came on briskly, four or five 
bidders abreast, and went on till the lot was knocked down to Cadell 
at £8400 ; a very large sum certainly, yet he has been offered profit 
on it already. For my part I think the loss would have been very 
great had we suffered these copyrights to go from those which we 
possessed. They w^ould have been instantly stereotyped and forced 
on the market to bring home the price, and by this means depreciated 
for ever, and all ours must have shared the same fate. Whereas, hus- 
banded and brought out with care, they cannot fail to draw in the 
others in the same series, and thus to be a sure and respectable source 
of profit. Considered in this point of view, even if they were worth 
only the £8400 to others, they were £10,000 to us. The largeness 
of the price arising from the activity of the contest only serves to 
show the value of the property.^ Had at the same time the agree- 
able intelligence that the octavo sets, which were bought by Hurst 
and Company at a depreciated rate, are now rising in the market, and 
that instead of 1500 sold, they have sold upwards of 2000 copies. 
This mass will therefore in all probability be worn away in a few 
months and then our operations may commence. On the whole, 
I am greatly pleased with the acquisition. If this first series be 
worth £8400, the remaining books must be worth £10,000, and then 
there is Napoleon, which is gliding away daily, for which I would not 
take the same sum, which would come to £24,200 in all for copy- 
rights ; besides £20,000 payable by insurance.'' Add the value of 
my books and furniture, plate, etc., there would be £50,000. So this 
may be considered my present progress. There will still remain up- 
wards of £35,000. 

" Heaven's arm strike with us — 'tis a fearful odds." ^ 

Yet with health and continued popularity there are chances in my fa- 
vour. 

Dine at James Ballantyne's, and happy man is he at the result of 
the sale ; indeed it must have been the making or marring of him. 
Sir Henry Steuart there, who " fooled me to the top of my bent." 

December 21. — Avery sweet pretty-looking young lady, the Prima 
Donna of the Italian Opera, now performing here, by name Miss Ay- 
ton,* came to breakfast this morning, with her father, (a bore, after 
the manner of all fathers, mothers, aunts, and other chaperons of pret- 
ty actresses) ! Miss Ayton talks very prettily, and, I dare say, sings 
beautifully, though too much in the Italian manner, I fear, to be a 
great favourite of mine. But I did not hear her, being called away 
by the Clerk's coach. I am like Jeremy in Love for Love^ — have a 

1 See note, Jan. 8, 1828, p. 344. * The Edinburgh play-bills of the day inti- 

, nr, i,o «,„., i*'^ TCi&iQ the "Second appearance of Miss Fanny 

9 On his own life. ^^^^^^ ^^.^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ Theatre. " 

9 See Henry F., Act iv. Sc. 3. e By Congreve— Act ii. Sc. 7. 



1827.] JOURNAL 335 

reasonable good ear for a jig, but your solos and sonatas give me the 
spleen. 

Called at CadelFs, who is still enamoured of his bargain, and 
with good reason, as the London booksellers were offering him £1000 
or £2000 to give it up to them. He also ascertained that all the cop- 
ies with which Hurst and Robinson loaded the market would be off 
in a half year. Make us thankful ! the weather is clearing to wind- 
ward. Cadell is cautious, steady, and hears good counsel; and 
Gibson quite inclined, were I too confident, to keep a good look-out 
ahead. 

December 22. — Public affairs look awkward. The present Minis- 
try are neither Whig nor Tory, and, divested of the support of either 
of the great parties of the State, stand supported by the will of the 
sovereign alone. This is not constitutional, and though it may be a 
temporary augmentation of the sovereign's personal influence, yet it 
cannot but prove hurtful to the Crown upon the whole, by tending 
to throw that responsibility on the Sovereign of which the law has de- 
prived him. I pray to God I may be wrong, but an attempt to govern 
par bascule — by trimming betwixt the opposite parties — is equally 
unsafe for the crown and detrimental to the country, and cannot do 
for a long time. The fact seems to be that Lord Goderich, a well- 
meaning and timid man, finds himself on a precipice — that his head 
is grown dizzy and he endeavours to cling to the person next him. 
This person is Lord Lansdowne, who he hopes may support him in 
the House of Lords against Lord Grey, so he proposes to bring Lord 
Lansdowne into the Cabinet. Lord G. resigns, and his resignation is 
accepted. Lord Harrowby is then asked to place himself at the head 
of a new Administration, — declines. The tried abilities of Marquis 
Wellesley are next applied to ; it seems he also declines, and then 
Lord Goderich comes back, his point about Lord Lansdowne having 
failed, and his threatened resignation goes for nothing. This must 
lower the Premier in the eyes of every one. It is plain the K. will 
not accept the Whigs ; it is equally plain that he has not made a 
move towards the Tories, and that with a neutral administration this 
country, hard ruled at any time, can be long governed, I, for one, 
cannot believe. God send the good King, to v,^hom I owe so much, 
as safe and honourable extrication as the circupastances render pos- 
sible.* 

After Court Anne set out for Abbotsford with the Miss Kerrs. 
I came off at three o'clock to Arniston, where I found Lord Register 
and lady, R. Dundas and lady, Robt. Adam Dundas, Durham of Cal- 
derwood and lady, old and young friends. Charles came with me. 

December 23. — AVent to church to Borthwick with the family, and 
heard a well-composed, well-delivered, sensible discourse from Mr. 

1 The dissolution of the Goderich Cabinet from the Premiership of the Duke ot Welling- 
confirmed very soon these shrewd guesses ; ton. — Life, vol. ix. p. 186. 
and Sir Walter anticipated nothing but good 



336 JOURNAL [Dec. 

Wright/ the clergyman — a different sort of person, I wot, from my 
old lialf-mad, half-drunken, little hump-back acquaintance Clunie,^ 
renowned for singing " The Auld Man's Mear's dead," and from the 
circumstance of his being once interrupted in his minstrelsy by the 
information that his own horse had died in the stable. 

After sermon we looked at the old castle, which made me an old 
man. The castle was not a bit older for the twenty-five years which 
had passed away, but the ruins of the visitor were very apparent ; to 
climb up round staircases, to creep through vaults and into dungeons, 
were not the easy labours but the positive sports of my younger 
years ; but that time is gone by, and I thought it convenient to at- 
tempt no more than the access to the large and beautiful hall in 
which, as it is somewhere described, an armed horseman might bran- 
dish his lance. The feeling of growing and increasing inability is 
painful to one like me, who boasted, in spite of my infirmity, great 
boldness and dexterity in such feats ; the boldness remains, but hand 
and foot, grip and accuracy of step, have altogether failed me ; the 
spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, and so I must retreat into the 
invalided corps and tell them of my former exploits, which may very 
likely pass for lies. We drove to Dalhousie Castle, where the gal- 
lant Earl, who had done so much to distinguish the British name in 
all and every quarter of the globe, is repairing the castle of his an- 
cestors, which of yore stood a siege against John of Gaunt. I was 
Lord Dalhousie's companion at school, where he was as much beloved 
by his companions as he has been ever respected by his companions- 
in-arms, and the people over whom he has been deputed to exercise 
the authority of his sovereign. He was always steady, wise, and 
generous. The old Castle of Dalhousie — potius Dalwolsey — was man- 
gled by a fellow called, I believe, Douglas, who destroyed, as far as 
in him lay, its military and baronial character, and roofed it after the 
fashion of a poor-house. The architect. Burn, is now restoring and 
repairing in the old taste, and I think creditably to his own feeling. 
God bless the roof-tree ! 

We returned home through the Temple banks by the side of the 
South Esk, where I had the pleasure to see that Robert Dundas is 
laying out his woods with taste, and managing them with care. His 
father and uncle took notice of me when I was a " fellow of no mark 
or likelihood," and I am always happy in finding myself in the old 
oak room at Arniston, where I have drunk many a merry bottle, and 
in the fields where I have seen many a hare killed. 

1 The Rev. Thomas Wright was minister oi 2 Rev. JohnClunie, Mr. Wright's predecessor 

Borthwick from 1817 to 1841, when he was de- In the parish, of whom many absurd stories 

posed on the ground of alleged heresy. His were told, appears to have been an enthusiastic 

works, The True Plan of a Living Temple, Morn- lover of Scottish songs, as Burns in 1794 says it 

ing and Evening Sacrifice, Farewell to Time, My was owing to his singing Co' the yowes to the 

Old House, etc., were published anonymously. knmves so charmingly that he took it down 

Mr. Wright lived in Edinburgh for fourteen years from his voice, and sent it to Mr. Thomson. — 

after his deposition, much beloved and respect- Carrie's Burns, vol. iv. p. 160, and Chambers's 

ed; he died on 13th March, 1855, in his seventy- Scottish Songs, 2 vols. Edin. 1829, p.. 269. 
first year. 



1827.] JOURNAL 337 

December 24. — Left Arniston after breakfast and arrived to dinner 
at Abbotsford. 

My reflections on entering my own gate were of a very different 
and more pleasing cast than those with which I left my house about 
six weeks ago. I was then in doubt whether I should fly my country 
or become avowedly bankrupt, and surrender my library and house- 
hold furniture, with the liferent of my estate, to sale. A man of the 
world will say I had better done so. No doubt had I taken this 
course at once, I might have employed the £25,000 which I made 
since the insolvency of Constable and Robinson's houses in compound- 
ing my debts. But I could not have slept sound as I now can, under 
the comfortable impression of receiving the thanks of my creditors 
and the conscious feeling of discharging my duty like a man of hon- 
our and honesty. I see before me a long tedious and dark path, but 
it leads to true fame and stainless reputation. If I die in the har- 
rows, as is very likely, I shall die with honour ; if I achieve my task 
I shall have the thanks of all concerned, and the approbation of my 
own conscience. And so I think I can fairly face the return of Christ- 
mas Day. 

December 25. — I drove over to Huntly Burn, and saw the planta- 
tion which is to be called Janeswood, in honour of my daughter-in- 
law. All looking well and in order. Before dinner, arrived Mrs. 
George Ellis and her nephew and niece, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Ellis, 
whom I was delighted to see, as there are a thousand kind recollec- 
tions of old days. Mrs. George Ellis is less changed in manner and 
appearance than any one I know. The gay and light-hearted have in 
that respect superiority over those who are of a deeper mould and 
a heavier. There is something even in the slightness and elasticity 
of person which outlasts the ponderous strength which is borne down 
by its own weight. Colonel Ellis is an enthusiastic soldier: and, 
though young, served in Spain and at Waterloo. 

" And so we held our Christmastide 
With mirth and burly cheer." 

December 26. — Colonel Ellis and I took a pretty long walk round 
by the glen, etc., where I had an extraordinary escape from the 
breaking down of a foot-bridge as I put my foot upon it. I luckily 
escaped either breaking my leg by its passing through the bridge in 
so awkward a manner, or tearing it by some one of the hundred rusty 
nails through which it fell. However, I was not, thanks to Heaven, 
hurt in the slightest degree. Tom Purdie, who had orders to repair 
the bridge long since, was so scandalised at the consequence of his 
negligence that the bridge is repaired by the time I am writing this. 
But how the noiseless step of Fate dogs us in our most seeming safe 
and innocent sports. 

On returning home we were joined by the Lord Chief-Commis- 
sioner, the Lord Chief -Baron, and William Clerk, of gentlemen ; and 

22 



338 JOURNAL [Dec. 

of ladies, Miss Adam and young Miss Thomson of Cliarlton. Also 
the two Miss Kerrs, Lord Robert's daughters, and so behold us a gal- 
lant Christmas party, full of mirth and harmony. Moreover, Captain 
John Ferguson came over from Huntly Burn, so we spent the day jo- 
cundly. I intend to take a holiday or two while these friends are 
about us. I have worked hard enough to merit it, and 



" Maggie will not sleep 

For that, ere summer."^ 

December 27. — This morning we took a drive up the Yarrow in 
great force, and perambulated the Duchess's Walk with all the force 
of our company. The weather was delightful, the season being con- 
sidered ; and Newark Castle, amid its leafless trees, resembled a dear 
old man w^ho smiles upon the ruins which time has spread around 
him. It is looking more venerable than formerly, for the repairs 
judiciously undertaken have now assumed colouring congenial with 
the old walls ; formerly, they had a raw and patchy appearance. I 
have seldom seen the scene look better even when summer smiled 
upon it. 

I have a letter from James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, asking me 
to intercede with the Dake of Buccleuch about his farm.*^ He took 
this burthen upon himself without the advice of his best friends, and 
certainly contrary to mine. From the badness of the times it would 
have been a poor speculation in any hands, especially in those of a 
man of letters, whose occupation, as w^ell as the society in which it 
involves him, [are so different]. But I hope this great family will be 
kind to him ; if not, cela ne vaudra pas a moi. But I cannot and 
ought not to look for having the same interest with this gentleman 
which I exercised in the days of Duke Charles. 

December 28. — A demand from Cadell to prepare a revised copy 
of the Tales of my Grandfather for the press.^ I received it with 
great pleasure, for I always had private hopes of that work. If I 
have a knack for anything it is for selecting the striking and inter- 
esting points out of dull details, and hence, I myself receive so much 
pleasure and instruction from volumes which are generally reputed 
dull and uninteresting. Give me facts, I will find fancy for myself. 
The first two volumes of these little tales are shorter than the third 
by seventy or eighty pages. Cadell proposes to equalise them by 
adding part of vol. ii. to vol. i., and of vol. iii. to vol. ii. But then 
vol. i. ends with the reign of Robert Bruce, vol. ii. with the defeat of 
Flodden ; happy points of pause which I cannot think of disturbing, 
the first in particular, for surely we ought to close one volume at least 

1 See Burns's " Auld Farmer's New-year Sal- der the following title : Tales of a Grandfather, 
utation. -' being stories taken from Scottish History. Hura- 

2 " >rount Benger," of which Hogg had taken biy inscribed to Hugh Littlejohn, Esq., in three 
a lease on his marriage, in 1820, and found that volumes. Printed for Cadell and Co., Edin- 
he could not make it pay burgh. Simpkin and Marshall, London, and 

3 The first series had just been published un- John Gumming, Dublin, 1828. 



1827.] 



JOURNAL 



339 



of Scottish history at a point which leaves the kingdom triumphant 
and happy ; and, alas ! where do her annals present us with such an 
era excepting after Bannockburn ? So I will set about to fill up the 
volumes, which are too short, with some additional matter, and so 
diminish at least, if we cannot altogether remove, their unsightly in- 
equality in size. The rest of the party went to Dryburgh — too pain- 
ful a place of pilgrimage for me.' I walked with the Lord Chief- 
Commissioner through our grounds at Huntly Burn, and by taking 
the carriage now and then I succeeded in giving my excellent old 
friend enough of exercise without any fatigue. We made our visit 
at Huntly Burn. 



1 During Sir Walter's illness in 1818-19 Mr. 
Skene was with him at Abbotsford, and he re- 
cords a curious incident regarding Dryburgh 
which may be given here: — "For nearly two 
years he had to struggle for his life with that 
severe illness, which the natural strength of 
his constitution at length proved sufficient to 
throw ofl: With its disappearance, although 
restored to health, disappeared also much of 
his former vigour of body, activitj^, and power 
of undergoing fatigue, while in personal ap- 
pearance he had advanced twenty years in the 
downward course of life; his hair had become 
bleached to pure white and scanty locks; the 
fire of his eye quenched ; and his step, more 
uncertain, had lost the vigorous swinging gait 
with which he was used to proceed ; in fact, 
old age had by many years anticipated its usual 
progress and marked how severely he had suf- 
fered. The complaint, that of gall-stones, was 
oue of extreme bodily suffering. During his 
severest attack he had been alone at Abbots- 
ford with his daughter Sophia, before her mar- 
riage to Mr. Lockhart, and had sent to say that 
he was desirous I should come to him, which I 
did, and remained for ten days till the attack 
had subsided. During its course the extreme 
violence of the pain and spasmodic contraction 
of the muscles of the stomach were such that I 
scarcely expected the powers of endurance 
could sustain him through the trial, and so 
much at times was he exhausted by it as to 
leave us in alarm as to what the result had 
actually been. One night I shall not soon for- 
get : he had been frequently and severely ill 
during the day, and having been summoned 
to his room in the middle of the night, where 
his daughter was already standing, the picture 
of deep despair, at his bed-side, the attack 
seemed intense, and we followed the directions 
left by the physician to assuage it. At length 
it seemed to subside, and he fell back exhaust- 
ed on the pillow, his eyes were closed, and his 
countenance wan and livid. Apparently with 
corresponding misgivings, his daughter at one 
side of the bed and I at the other gazed for 
some time intently and in silence on his coun- 
tenance, and then glanced with anxious in- 
quiring looks to each other, till, at length, hav- 
ing placed my finger on his pulse, to ascertain 
whether it had actually ceased to throb, I shall 
never forget the sudden beam which again 
brightened his daughter's countenance, and for 
a moment dispelled the intense expression of 
anxiety which had for some time overspread 
it, when Sir Walter, aware of my feeling his 



pulse, and the probable purpose, whispered, 
with a faint voice, but without opening his 
e5^es, ' I am not yet gone. ' After some time he 
revived, and gave us a proof of the mastery of 
his mind over the sufferings of the body. ' Do 
you recollect,' he said to me, 'a small round 
turret near the gate of the ]\Ionastery of Aber- 
brothwick, and placed so as to overhang the 
street?' Upon answering that I did perfectlj^, 
and that a picturesque little morsel it was, 
he said, 'Well, I was over there when a mob 
had assembled, excited by some purpose, which 
I do not recollect, but failing of their original 
intention, they took umbrage at the little ven- 
erable emblem of aristocracy, which still bore 
its weather-stained head so conspicuously aloft, 
and, resolving to humble it with the dust, they 
got a stout hawser from a vessel in the adjoin- 
ing harbour, which a sailor lad, climbing up, 
coiled round the body of the little turret, and 
the rabble seizing the rope by both ends tugged 
and pulled, and laboured long to strangle and 
overthrow the poor old turret, but in vain, for 
it withstood all their endeavours. Now that is 
exactly the condition of my poor stomach : 
there is a rope twisted round it, and the ma- 
licious devils are straining and tugging at it, 
and, faith, I could almost think that 1 some- 
times hear them shouting and cheering each 
other to their task, and when they are at it I 
always have the little turret and its tormentors 
before my eyes.' He complained that partic- 
ular ideas fixed themselves down upon his 
mind, which he had not the power of shaking 
off; but this was, in fact, the obvious conse- 
quence of tlie quantity of laudanum which it 
was necessary for him to swallow to allay the 
spasms. 

"After he had got some repose, and had be- 
come rather better in the morning, he said, 
with a smile on his countenance, ' If you will 
promise not to laugh at me I have a favour to 
ask. Do you know I have taken a childish 
desire to see the place where I am to be laid 
when I go home, which there is some proba- 
bility may not now be long delayed. Now, as 
I cannot go to Dryburgh Abbey— that is out 
of the question at present — it would give me 
much pleasure if you would take a ride down 
and bring me a drawing of that spot,' which he 
minutely described the position of, and men- 
tioned the exact point where he wished it 
drawn, that the site of his future grave might 
appear. His wish was accordingly complied 
with. " — Reminisceiices. 



340 JOURNAL [Dec. 1827. 

December 29. — Lord Chief-Baron, Lord Chief-Commissioner, Miss 
Adam, Miss Austruther Thomson, and William Clerk left us. We 
read prayers, and afterwards walked round the terrace. 

I had also time to work hard on the additions to the Tales of a 
Grandfather, vols. 1 and 2. The day passed pleasantly over. 

December 30. — The Fergusons came over, and we welcomed in the 
New Year with the usual forms of song and flagon. 

Looking back to the conclusion of 1826, I observe that the last 
year ended in trouble and sickness, with pressures for the present and 
gloomy prospects for the future. The sense of a great privation so 
lately sustained, together with the very doubtful and clouded nature 
of my private affairs, pressed hard upon my mind. I am now perfectly 
well in constitution ; and though I am still on troubled waters, yet I 
am rowing with the tide, and less than the continuation of my exer- 
tions of 182*7 may, with God's blessing, carry me successfully through 
1828, when we may gain a more open sea, if not exactly a safe port. 
Above all, my children are well. Sophia's situation excites some 
natural anxiety ; but it is only the accomplishment of the burthen 
imposed on her sex. Walter is happy in the view of his majority, 
on which matter we have favourable hopes from the Duke of Wel- 
lington. Anne is well and happy. Charles's entry upon life under 
the highest patronage, and in a line for which I hope he is qualified, 
is about to take place presently. 

For all these great blessings it becomes me well to be thankful to 
God, who in his good time and good pleasure sends us good as well 
as evil. 



1828.— JANUARY 

"As I walked by myself, 
I talked to myself, 
And thus myself said to me." 

January 1. — Since the 20th November, 1825, for two months 
that is, and two years, I have kept this custom of a diary. That it 
has made me wiser or better I dare not say, but it shows by its prog- 
ress that I am capable of keeping a resolution. Perhaps I should 
not congratulate myself on this ; perhaps it only serves to show I am 
more a man of method and less a man of originality, and have no 
longer that vivacity of fancy that is inconsistent with regular labour. 
Still, should this be the case, I should, having lost the one, be happy 
to find myself still possessed of the other. 

January 2. — Ccecce mentes hominum. — My last entry records my 
punctuality in keeping up my diary hitherto; my present labour, 
commenced notwithstanding the date, upon the 9th January, is to 
make up my little record betwixt the second and that latter date. In 
a word, I have been several days in arrear without rhyme or reason, 
— days too when there was so little to write down that the least jot- 
ting would have done it. This must not be in future. 

January 3. — Our friends begin to disperse. Mrs. Ellis, who has 
been indisposed for the last two days, will I hope bear her journey 
to London well. She is the relict of my dear old friend George El- 
lis,' who had more wit, learning, and knowledge of the world than 
would fit out twenty literati. The Hardens remained to-day, and I 
had a long walk with the laird up the Glen, and so forth. He seemed 
a little tired, and with all due devotion to my Chief, I was not sorry 
to triumph over some one in point of activity at my time of day. 

January 4. — Visited by Mr. Stewart of Dalguise, who came to 
collect materials for a description of Abbotsford, to be given with a 
drawing in a large work, Views of Gentlemen^ s Seats. Mr. Stewart is 
a well-informed gentleman-like young man, grave and quiet, yet pos- 
sessed of a sense of humour. I must take care he does not in civility 
over-puff my little assemblage of curiosities. Scarce anything can 
be meaner than the vanity which details the contents of China clos- 
ets, — basins, ewers, and chamberpots. Horace Walpole, with all his 
talents, makes a silly figure when he gives an upholsterer's catalogue 
of his goods and chattels at Strawberry Hill. 

1 To whom S«ott addressed the fifth cauto of Marmion- 



342 JOURNAL [Jan. 

January 5. — This day I began to review Taschereau's Life of Mo- 
liere for Mr. Gillies who is crying help for God's sake. Messrs. 
Treuttel and Wurtz offer guerdon. I shall accept, because it is doing 
Gillies no good to let him have my labour for nothing, and an article 
is about £100. In my pocket it may form a fund to help this poor 
gentleman or others at a pinch ; in his, I fear it would only encour- 
age a neglect of sober economy. When in his prosperity he asked me 
whether there was not, in my opinion, something interesting in a man 
of genius being in embarrassed circumstances. God knows he has 
had enough of them since, poor fellow ; and it should be remembered 
that if he thus dallied with his good fortune, his benevolence to oth- 
ers was boundless. 

AVe had the agreeable intelligence of Sophia being safely deliv- 
ered of a girl ; the mother and child doing well. Praised be God ! 

January 6. — I have a letter from the Duke of Wellington, mak- 
ing no promises, but assuring me of a favourable consideration of 
Walter's case, should an opening occur for the majority. This same 
step is represented as the most important, but so in their time were 
the lieutenancy and the troop. Each in its turn was the step par ex- 
cellence. It appears that these same steps are those of a treadmill, 
where the party is always ascending and never gains the top. But 
the same simile would suit most pursuits in life. 

The Misses Kerr left us on Friday — two charming young persons, 
well-looked, well-mannered, and well-born ; above al], well-principled. 
They sing together in a very delightful manner, and our evenings 
are the duller without them. 

I am annoyed beyond measure with the idle intrusion of volun- 
tary correspondents ; each man who has a pen, ink, and sheet of 
foolscap to spare, flies a letter at me. I believe the postage costs me 
£100 [a year], besides innumerable franks ; and all the letters regard 
the writer's own hopes or projects, or are filled with unasked advice 
or extravagant requests. I think this evil increases rather than di- 
minishes. On the other hand, I must fairly own that I have received 
many communications in this way worth all the trouble and expense 
that the others cost me, so I must " lay the head of the sow to the 
tail of the grice," as the proverb elegantly expresses itself. 

News again of Sophia and baby. Mrs. Hughes thinks the infant 
a beauty. Johnny opines that it is not very pretty, and grandpapa 
supposes it to be like other new-born children, which are as like as a 
basket of oranges. 

January 7. — Wrought at the review, and finished a good lot of 
it. Mr. Stewart left us, amply provided tvith the history of Abbots- 
ford and its contents. It is a kind of Conundrum Castle to be sure, 
and I have great pleasure in it, for while it pleases a fantastic person 
in the style and manner of its architecture and decoration, it has all 
the comforts of a commodious habitation. 

Besides the review, I have been for this week busily employed in 



1828.] JOURNAL 343 

revising for the press the Tales of a Grandfather. Cadell rather 
wished to rush it out by employing three different presses, but this / 
repressed (smoke the pun !). I will not have poor James Ballantyne 
driven off the plank to which we are all three clinging.^ I have 
made great additions to volume first, and several of these Tales ; and 
I care not who knows it, I think well of them. Nay, I will hash his- 
tory with anybody, be he who he will.^ I do not know but it would 
be wise to let romantic composition rest, and turn my mind to the 
history of England, France, and Ireland, to be da capo rota'd, as well 
as that of Scotland. Men would laugh at me as an author tor Mr. 
Newbery's shop in Paul's Churchyard. I should care little for that. 
Virginihus puerisque. I would as soon compose histories for boys 
and girls, which may be useful, as fictions for children of a larger 
growth, which can at best be only idle folk's entertainment. But 
write what I will, or to whom I will, I am doggedly determined to 
write myself out of the present scrape by any labour that is fair and 
honest. 

January 8. — Despatched my review (in part), and in the morn- 
ing walked from Chiefswood, all about the shearing flats, and home 
by the new walk, which I have called the Bride's Walk, because Jane 
was nearly stuck fast in the bog there, just after her marriage, in the 
beo^innino- of 1825. 

My post brings serious intelligence to-day, and of a very pleasing 
description. Longman and Company, with a reserve which marks 
all their proceedings, suddenly inform Mr. Gibson that they desire 
1000 of the 8vo edition of St. RonarCs Well, and the subsequent 
series of Novels thereunto belonging, for that they have only seven 
remaining, and wish it to be sent to their printers, and pushed 
out in three months. Thus this great house, without giving any 
previous notice of the state of the sale, expect all to be boot and sad- 
dle, horse and away, whenever they give the signal. In the present 
case this may do, because I will make neither alteration nor addition 
till our grand opus, the Improved Edition, goes to press. But ought 
we to go to press with this 1000 copies knowing that our project 
will supersede and render equivalent to waste paper such of them as 
may not reach the public before our plan is publicly known and be- 
gins to operate? I have, I acknowledge, doubt as to this. No 
doubt I feel perfectly justified in letting Longman and Co. look to 



1 See letter to R. Cadell, Life, vol. ix. p. 209. the library, the boudoir, the school-room, and 

the nursery; it is adopted as the happiest of 

2 "The first Tales of a Grandfather [as has manuals, not only in Scotland, but wherever 
already been said] appeared early in December, the English tongue is spoken; nay, it is to be 
and their reception was more rapturous than seen in the hands of old and young all over the 
that of any one of his works since /uau/ioe. He civilised world, and has, I have little doubt, 
had solved for the first time the problem of extended the knowledge of Scottish history in 
narrating history, so as at once to excite and quarters where little or uo interest had ever 
gratify the curiosity of youth, and please and before been awakened as to any other parts of 
instruct the wisest of mature minds. The pop- that subject except those immediately connect- 
ularity of the book has grown with every year ed with Mary Stuart and the Chevalier, "—r 
that has since elapsed; it is equally prized in Life, vol. ix. pp. 186-7. 



344 JOURNAL [Jan. 

their own interest, since they have neither consulted me nor at- 
tended to mine. But the loss might extend to the retail booksellers ; 
and to hurt the men through whom my works are ultimately to find 
their way to the public would be both unjust and impolitic. On the 
contrary, if the St. Ronan Series be hurried out immediately, there is 
time enough perhaps to sell it off before the Improved Edition ap- 
pears. In the meantime it appears that the popularity of these works 
is increasing rather than diminishing, that the measure of securing the 
copyrights was most judicious, and that, with proper management, 
things will work themselves round. Successful first editions are 
good, but they require exertion and imply fresh risk of reputation. 
But repeated editions tell only to the agreeable part of literature.^ 

Longman and Company have also at length opened their oracular 
jaws on the subject of Bonaparte^ and acknowledged its rapid sale, 
and the probable exhaustion of the present edition. 

These tidings, with the success of the Tales, "speak of Africa 
and golden joys." '^ But the tidings arriving after dinner rather dis- 
composed me. In the evening I wrote to Cadell and Ballantyne at 
length, proposing a meeting at my house on Tuesday first, to hold a 
privy council. 

January 9. — My first reflection was on Napoleon. I will not be 
hurried in my corrections of that work ; and that I may not be so, I 
will begin them the instant that I have finished the review. It makes 
me tremble to think of the mass of letters I have to look through in 
order to select all those which affect the subject of Napoleon, and 
which, in spite of numerous excellent resolutions, I have never sepa- 
rated from the common file from which they are now to be selected. 
Confound them ! but they are confounded already. Indolence is a 
delightful indulgence, but at what a rate we purchase it ! To-day 
we go to Mertoun, and having spent some time in making up my 
Journal to this length, and in a chat with Captain John, who drop- 
ped in, I will presently set to the review — knock it off, if possible, 
before we start at five o'clock. To-morrow, when I return, we will 
begin the disagreeable task of a thorough rummage of papers, 

1 It may be remarked at this point how the rights of sir Walter Scott's works, including stereotypes, 
value of these works has beea sustained by steels, wood-cut«, etc., to a very larpe meeting of the pub- 
♦ i,„ »v.,Ki„ A^^^^y^A ^„,.;«™ »K^ ♦^-r,^ rN*- 1,^r,■ol "shers of tliis countrv. After one or two of our leading 

the public demand during the term of legal g.^, ^^^ ^^,5^^^ ^^^^ the contest, the lot was bought in 

copyright and since that date. That of Waver- for, we believe, j£15,600. This sum did not include the 
ley expired in 1856, and the others at forty-two stock on hand, valued at £10,000. However, the fact is 
years from the date of publication. t^ the Trustees have virtually refused £25,000 for the 

On December 19, 1827, the copyright of the "°='^' copj-nghts, etc., of Scott's works." 
Novels from Waverley to Quentin Durward was Messrs. A. & C. Black in 1851 purchased the 
acquired, as mentioned in the text, for £8400 property at nearly the same price, viz. : — Copy- 
as a joint purchase. Five years later, viz., in right, £17,000; stock, £10,000— in all, £27,000. 
1832, Jlr. Cadell purchased from Sir Walter's Mr. Francis Black, who has kindly given me 
representatives, for about £10,000, the author's information regarding the sale of these works, 
share in stock and entire copyrights ! tells me that of the volumes of one of the 

Nineteen years afterwards, viz., on the 26th cheaper issues about three millions have been 

March, 1851 (after ?tlr. Cadell's death), the stock sold since 1851. This, of course, is independent 

and copyrights were exposed for sale by auc- of other publishers' editions in Great Britain, 

tion in London, regarding which a Trade Jour- the Continent, and America, 
nal of the date says— 

" Mr. Hodgson offered for sale the whole of the copy- " In Henry IV., Act V. Sc. 3. 



1828.] JOURNAL 345 

books, and documents. My character as a man of letters, and as a 
man of honour, depends on my making that work as correct as pos- 
sible. It has succeeded, notwithstanding every effort here and in 
France' to put it down, and it shall not lose ground for want of back- 
ing. We went to dine and pass the night at Mertoun, where we met 
Sir John Pringle, Mr. and Mrs. Baillie Mellerstain, and their daugh- 
ters. 

January 10. — When I rose this morning the weather was changed 
and the ground covered with snow. I am sure it's winter fairly. 
We returned from Mertoun after breakfast through an incipient 
snowstorm, coming on partially, and in great flakes, the sun bursting 
at intervals through the clouds. At last Die Wolken laufen zusammen. 
We made a slow journey of it through the swollen river and heavy 
roads, but here we are at last. 

I am rather sorry we expect friends to-day, though these friends 
be the good Fergusons. I have a humour for work, to which the 
sober, sad uniformity of a snowy day always particularly disposes 
me, and I am sure I will get poor Gillies off my hand, at least if I 
had morning and evening. Then I would set to work with arrang- 
ing everything for these second editions of JVapoleon, The Romances, 
etc., which must be soon got afloat. I must say " the wark gangs 
bonnily on.'"^ Well, I will ring for coals, mend my pen, and try what 
can be done. 

I wrought accordingly on Gillies's review for the Life of Moliere^ 
a gallant subject. I am only sorry I have not time to do it justice. 
It would have required a complete re-perusal of his works, for which, 
alas ! I have no leisure. 

"For long, though pleasant, is the way, 
And life, alas ! allows but one ill winter's day." 

Which is too literally my own case. 

January 11. — Renewed my labour, finished the review, talis qualis, 
and sent it off. Commenced then my infernal work of putting to 
rights. Much cry and little woo', as the deil said when he shore the 
sow. But I have detected one or two things that had escaped me, 
and may do more to-morrow. I observe by a letter from Mr. Cadell 
that I had somewhat misunderstood his last. It is he, not Longman, 
that wishes to publish the thousand copies of St. Ronan's Series, and 
there is no immediate call for Napoleon. This makes little differ- 
ence in my computation. The pressing necessity of correction is 

1 Tn an interesting letter to Scott from Feni- you in my presence as having a low, vulgar 
more Cooper, dated Sept. 12th, 1827, he tells style, very much such an one as characterised 
him ''that the French abuse you a little, but the pen of Shakespeare ! " 
as they began to do this, to my certain knowl- 
edge, five months before the book was pub- 2 a proverb having its rise from an excla- 
lished, you have no great reason to regard mation»made by Mr. David Dick, a Covenanter, 
their criticism. It would be impossible to on witnessing the execution of some of Mon- 
write the truth on such a subject and please trose's followers. — "Wishart's J/on<rose, quoting 
this nation. One frothy gentleman denounced from Guthrie's Memoirs, p. 182. 



346 JOURNAL [Jan. 

put off for two or tliree montlis probably, and I bave time to turn 
myself to tbe Chronicles. I do not mucb like tbe task, but wben did 
I ever like labour of any kind? My bands were fully occupied to- 
day witb writing letters and adjusting papers — botb a great bore. 

Tbe news from London assure a change of Ministry. Tbe old 
Tories come in play. But I bope tbey will compromise notbing. 
Tbere is little danger since Wellington takes tbe lead. 

January 12. — My expenses bave been considerably more tban I 
expected; but I tbink tbat, baving done so mucb, I need not under- 
go tbe mortification of giving up Abbotsford and parting witb my 
old babits and servants.^ 

January 13, \EdinhurgK\. — We bad a slow and tiresome retreat 
from Abbotsford tbrougb tbe worst of weatber, balf -sleet, balf-snow. 
Dined witb tbe Royal Society Club, and, being an anniversary, sat 
till nine o'clock, instead of balf -past seven. 

January 14. — I read Cooper's new novel. The Red Rover '^ tbe 
current of it rolls entirely upon tbe ocean. Sometbing tbere is too 
mucb of nautical language ; in fact, it overpowers everytbing else. 
But, so people once take an interest in a description, tbey will swal- 
low a great deal wbicb tbey do not understand. Tbe sweet word 
" Mesopotamia " bas its cbarm in otber compositions as well as in 
sermons. He bas mucb genius, a powerful conception of character, 
and force of execution. Tbe same ideas, I see, recur upon bim tbat 
baunt otber folks. Tbe graceful form of tbe spars, and tbe tracery 
of tbe ropes and cordage against tbe sky, is too often dwelt upon. 

January 15. — Tbis day tbe Court sat down. I missed my good 
friend Colin Mackenzie, wbo proposes to retire, from indifferent 
bealtb. A better man never lived — eager to serve every one — a safe- 
guard over all public business wbicb came tbrougb bis bands. As 
Deputy -Keeper of tbe Signet be will be mucb missed. He bad a pa- 
tience in listening to every one wbicb is of tbe [bigbest consequence] 
in tbe management of a public body ; for many men care less to gain 
tbeir point tban tbey do to play tbe orator, and be Hstened to for a 
certain time. Tbis done, and due quantity of personal consideration 
being gained, tbe individual orator is usually satisfied witb tbe rea- 
sons of tbe civil listener, wbo bas suffered bim to enjoy bis hour of 
consequence. I attended tbe Court, but tbere was very little for 
me to do. Tbe snowy weatber bas annoyed my fingers witb chil- 
blains, and I bave a threatening of rheumatism — which Heaven 
avert ! 

James Ballantyne and Mr. Cadell dined with me to-day and talked 
me into a good humour with my present task, which I had laid aside 

1 Scott's biographer records his admiration wages. Old Peter, who had been for five-and- 

for the manner in which all his dependants twenty years a dignified coachman, was now 

met the reverse of their master's fortunes. ploughman inordinary; only putting his horses 

The butler, instead of being the easy chief of a to the carriage on high and rare occasions; 

large establishment, was now doing half the and so on with all that remained of the an- 

work of the house at probably half his former cient train, and all seemed happier. 



1828.] JOURNAL 347 

in disgust. It must, however, be done, though I am loth to begin to 
it again. 

January 16. — Again returned early, and found my way home 
with some difficulty. The weather — a black frost powdered with 
snow, my fingers suffering much and my knee very stiff. When I 
came home, I set to work, but not to the Chronicles. I found a less 
harassing occupation in correcting a volume or two of Na-poUon in a 
rough way. My indolence, if I can call it so, is of a capricious kind. 
It never makes me absolutely idle, but very often inclines me — as it 
were from mere contradiction's sake — to exchange the task of the 
day for something which I am not obliged to do at the moment, or 
perhaps not at all. 

January 17. — My knee so swelled and the weather so cold that I 
stayed from Court. I nibbled for an hour or two at N^apoleon, then 
took handsomely to my gear, and wrote with great ease and fluency 
six pages of the Chronicles. If they are but tolerable I shall be sat- 
isfied. In fact, such as they are, they must do, for I shall get warm 
as I work, as has happened on former occasions. The fact is, I scarce 
know what is to succeed or not ; but this is the consequence of writ- 
ing too much and too often. I must get some breathing space. But 
how is that to be managed ? There is the rub. 

January 18-19. — Remained still at home, and wrought hard. The 
fountain trickles free enough, but God knows whether the waters will 
be worth drinking. However, I have finished a good deal of hard 
work, — that's the humour of it. 

January 20. — Wrought hard in the forenoon. At dinner we had 
Helen Erskine, — whom circumstances lead to go to India in search 
of the domestic affection which she cannot find here, — Mrs. George 
Swinton, and two young strangers : one, a son of my old friend Dr. 
Stoddart of the Times, a well-mannered and intelligent youth, the 
other that unnatural character, a tame Irishman, resembling a formal 
Englishman. 

January 21. — This morning I sent J. B. as far as page forty-three, 
being fully two-thirds of the volume. The rest I will drive on, trust- 
ing that, contrary to the liberated posthorse in John Gilpin, the lum- 
ber of the wheels rattling behind me may put spirit in the poor brute 
who has to drag it. 

Mr. and Mrs. Moscheles were here at breakfast. She is a very 
pretty little Jewess ; he one of the greatest performers on the piano- 
forte of the day, — certainly most surprising and, what I rather did 
not expect, pleasing. 

I have this day the melancholy news of Glengarry's death, and 
was greatly shocked. The eccentric parts of his character, the pre- 
tensions which he supported with violence and assumption of rank 
and authority, were obvious subjects of censure and ridicule, which 
in some points were not undeserved. He played the part of a chief- 
tain too nigh the life to be popular among an altered race, with whom 



348 JOURNAL 1828.] 

he thought, felt, and acted, I may say in right and wrong, as a chief- 
tain of a hundred years since would have done, while his conduct 
was viewed entirely by modern eyes, and tried by modern rules. ^ 

January 22. — I am, I find, in serious danger of losing the habit 
of my Journal ; and, having carried it on so long, that would be 
pity. But I am now, on the 1st February, fishing for the lost recol- 
lections of the days since the 21st January. Luckily there is not 
very much to remember or forget, and perhaps the best way would 
be to skip and go on. 

January 23. — Being a Teind day, I had a good opportunity of 
work. I should have said I had given breakfast on the 21st to Mr. 
and Mrs. Moscheles ; she a beautiful young creature, "and one that 
adores me," as Sir Toby says,'^ — that is, in my poetical capacity ; — in 
fact, a frank and amiable young person. I liked Mr. Moscheles' play- 
ing better than I could hdve expected, considering my own bad ear. 
But perhaps I flatter myself, and think I understood it better than I 
did. Perhaps I have not done myself justice, and know more of mu- 
sic than I thought I did. But it seems to me that his variations have 
a more decided style of originality than those I have commonly heard, 
which have all the signs of a da capo rota. 

Dined at Sir Archibald Campbell's,^ and drank rather more wine 
than usual in a sober way. To be sure, it was excellent, and some 
old acquaintances proved a good excuse for the glass. 

January 24. — I took a perverse fit to-day, and went oS to write 
notes, et cetera, on Guy Mannering. This was perverse enough ; but 
it was a composition between humour and duty ; and as such, let it 



January 25. — I went on working, sometimes at my legitimate la- 
bours, sometimes at my jobs of Notes, but still working faithfully, in 
good spirits, and contented. 

Huntly Gordon has disposed of the two sermons* to the book- 
seller Colburn for £250 — well sold, I think — and is to go forth im- 
mediately. The man is a puffing quack ; but though I would rather 
the thing had not gone there, and far rather that it had gone no- 
where, yet, hang it ! if it makes the poor lad easy, what needs I fret 
about it ? After all, there would be little gain in doing a kind thing, 
if you did not suffer pain or inconvenience upon the score. 

January 26. — Being Saturday, attended Mr. Moscheles' concert, 
and was amused ; the more so that I had Mrs. M. herself to flirt a lit- 
tle with. To have so much beauty as she really possesses, and to be 
accomplished and well-read, she is an unaffected and pleasant person. 
Mr. Moscheles gives lessons at two guineas by the hour, and he has 

1 Ante, p. 76. mons were written are fully detailed in the 

2 Twelfth Night, Act ii. Sc. 3. Life, volix. pp. 193, 206. They were issued in 
, c,- -u-, ,1 ^ ,. 1, X. o r- Tx a thin octavo vol. under the title i2eZz^iowsZ)i«- 

3 Sir Archibald Campbell of Succoth. He courses, by a Layman, with a short Preface 
lived at 1 Park Place. signed W. S. There were more editions than 

* The circumstances under which these ser- one published during 1828. 



1828.] JOURNAL 349 

actually found scholars in this poor country. One of them at least 
(Mrs. John Murray) may derive advantage from his instructions ; for 
I observe his mode of fingering is very peculiar, as he seems to me 
to employ the fingers of the same hand in playing the melody and 
managing the bass at the same time, which is surely most uncommon. 

I presided at the Celtic Society's dinner to-day, and proposed 
Glengarry's memory, which, although there had been a rough dispute 
with the Celts and the poor Chief, was very well received. I like to 
see men think and bear themselves like men. There were fewer in 
the tartan than usual — which was wrong. 

January 27. — Wrought manfully at the Chronicles all this day 
and have nothing to jot down ; only I forgot that I lost my lawsuit 
some day last week or the week before. The fellow therefore gets 
his money, plack and bawbee, but it's always a troublesome claim 
settled,^ and there can be no other of the same kind, as every othe? 
creditor has accepted the composition of Is. in the £, which my exer- 
tions have enabled me to pay them. About £20,000 of the fund had 
been created by my own exertions since the bankruptcy took place, 
and I had a letter from Donald Home, by commission of the credit- 
ors, to express their sense of my exertions in their behalf. All this 
is consolatory. 

January 28. — I am in the scrape of sitting for my picture, and 
had to repair for two hours to-day to Mr. Colvin Smith — Lord Gil- 
lies's nephew. The Chief Baron ^ had the kindness to sit with me 
great part of the time, as the Chief Commissioner had done on a late 
occasion. The picture is for the Chief Commissioner, and the Chief 
Baron desires a copy. I trust it will be a good one. At home in 
the evening, and wrote. I am well on before the press, notwithstand- 
ing late hours, lassitude, and laziness. I have read Cooper's Prairie 
— better, I think, than his Red Rover^ in which you never get foot on 
shore, and to understand entirely the incidents of the story it re- 
quires too much knowledge of nautical language. It's very clever, 
though.' 

January 29. — This day at the Court, and wrote letters at home, 
besides making a visit or two — rare things with me. I have an in- 
vitation from Messrs. Saunders and Otley, booksellers, offering me 
from £1500 to £2000 annually to conduct a journal ; but I am their 
humble servant. I am too indolent to stand to that sort of work, 
and I must preserve the undisturbed use of my leisure, and possess 
my soul in quiet. A large income is not my object; I must clear 
my debts ; and that is to be done by writing things of which I can 
retain the property. Made my excuses accordingly. 

January 30. — After Court hours I had a visit from Mr. Charles 

1 AnU, p. 317. in America, but he was not successful, and he 

1 a-..o«w,„«i Qv.«.>i,<s,-i writes to Scott in the autumn of 1827: "This, 

2 Sir Samuel Shepherd. gir, is a pitiful account of a project from which 

3 Mr. Cooper did not relax his efforts to se- I expected something more just to you and 
cure Scott an interest in his works reprinted creditable to my country. " 



350 JOURNAL [Jan. 1828. 

Heath, the engraver, accompanied by a son of Reynolds the drama- 
tist. His object was to engage me to take charge as editor of a year- 
ly publication called The Keepsake, of which the plates are beyond 
comparison beautiful, but the letter-press indifferent enough. He 
proposed £800 a year if I would become editor, and £400 if I would 
contribute from seventy to one hundred pages. I declined both, but 
told him I might give him some trifling thing or other, and asked 
the young men to breakfast the next day. Worked away in the 
evening and completed, "in a way and in a manner," the notes on 
Guy Mannering. The first volume of the Chronicles is now in Bal- 
lantyne's hands, all but a leaf or two. Am I satisfied with my exer- 
tions? So so. Will the public be pleased with them? Umph! I 
doubt the bubble will burst. While it is current, however, it is clear 
I should stand by it. Each novel of three volumes brings £4000, 
and I remain proprietor of the mine when the first ore is cropped 
out. This promises a good harvest, from what we have experienced. 
Now, to become a stipendiary editor of a New-Year's Gift-Book is not 
to be thought of, nor could I agree to work for any quantity of sup- 
ply to such a publication. Even the pecuniary view is not flattering, 
though these gentlemen meant it should be so. But one hundred of 
their close-printed pages, for which they oSer £400, is not nearly 
equal to one volume of a novel, for which I get £1300, and have the 
reversion of the copyright. No, I may give them a trifle for nothing, 
or sell them an article for a round price, but no permanent engage- 
ment will I make. Being the Martyrdom, there was no Court. I 
wrought away with what appetite I could. 

January 31. — I received the young gentlemen to breakfast, and 
expressed my resolution, which seemed to disappoint them, as per- 
haps they expected I should have been glad of such an offer. How- 
ever, I have since thought there are these rejected parts of the Chron- 
icles, which Cadell and Ballantyne criticised so severely, which might 
well enough make up a trifle of this kind, and settle the few ac- 
counts which, will I nill I, have crept in this New Year. So I have 
kept the treaty open. If I give them 100 pages I should expect 
£500. 

I was late at the Court and had little time to write any till after 
dinner, and then was not in the vein ; so commentated. 



FEBRUARY 

February 1. — I had my two youths again to breakfast, but I did 
not say more about my determination, save that I would help them 
if I could make it convenient. The Chief Commissioner has agreed 
to let Heath have his pretty picture of a Study at Abbotsford, by 
Edwin Landseer, in which old Maida occurs. The youth Eeynolds 
is what one would suppose his father's son to be, smart and for- 
ward, and knows the world. I suppose I was too much fagged with 
sitting in the Court to-day to write hard after dinner, but I did work, 
however, 

February 2. — Corrected proofs, which are now nearly up with me. 
This day w^as an idle one, for I remained in Court till one, and sat 
for my picture till half-past three to Mr. Smith. He has all the 
steadiness and sense in appearance which his cousin R. P. G. lacks.^ 
Whether he has genius or no, I am no judge. My own portrait is 
like, but I think too broad about the jowls, a fault which they all fall 
into, as I suppose, by placing their subject upon a high stage and 
looking upwards to them, which must foreshorten the face. The 
Chief Baron and Chief Commissioner had the goodness to sit with 
me. 

Dressed and went wdth Anne to dine at Pinkie House, where I 
met the President,^ Lady Charlotte, etc. ; above all, Mrs. Scott of 
Gala, whom I had not seen for some time. We had much fun, and 
I was, as Sir Andrew Aguecheek says, in good fooling.^ A lively 
French girl, a governess I think, but very pretty and animated, 
seemed much amused with the old gentleman. Home at eleven 
o'clock. 

By the by. Sir John Hope had found a Roman eagle on his estate 
in Fife with sundry of those pots and coffee-pots, so to speak, which 
are so common : but the eagle was mislaid, so I did not see it. 

February 3. — I corrected proofs and wrote this morning, — but 
slowly, heavily, lazily. There was a mist on my mind which my ex- 
ertions could not dispel. I did not get two pages finished, but I cor- 
rected proofs and commentated. 

February 4. — Wrote a little and was obliged to correct the Mo- 
liere affair for R. P. G-. I think his plan cannot go on much longer 

•1 Mr. Colvin Smith painted in all about of the persons who commissioned them is giv- 
twenty portraits of Sir Walter, for seven of en at p. 73 of the Centenary Catalogue. 
which he obtained occasional sittings. A list 2 The Right Hon. Charles Hope. 

3 Tmlfth Night, Act 11. Sc. 2. 



352 JOUKNAL [Feb. 

witli so mucli weakness at the lielm. A clever fellow would make it 
take the field with a vengeance, but poor G. will run in debt with the 
booksellers and let all go to the devil. I sent a long letter to Lock- 
hart, received from Horace Smith, very gentlemanlike and well-writ- 
ten, complaining that Mr. Leigh Hunt had mixed him up, in his Life 
of Byron, with Shelley as if he had shared his irreligious opinions. 
Leigh Hunt afterwards at the request of Smith published a swagger- 
ing contradiction of the inference to be derived from the way in which 
he has named them together. Horatio Smith seems not to have re- 
lied upon his disclamation, as he has requested me to mention the 
thing to John Lockhart, and to some one influential about Ebony, 
which I have done accordingly. 

February 5. — Concluded the first volume before breakfast. 1 am 
but indifferently pleased ; either the kind of thing is worn out, or I 
am worn out myself, or, lastly, I am stupid for the time. The book 
must be finished, however. Cadell is greatly pleased with annota- 
tions intended for the new edition of the Waverley series. I believe 
that work must be soon sent to press, which would put a powerful 
wheel in motion to clear the ship. I went to the Parliament House, 
and in return strolled into Cadell's, being rather anxious to prolong 
my walk, for I fear the constant sitting for so many hours. When I 
returned, the Duke of Buccleuch came in. He is looking very well, 
and stout, but melancholy about his sister. Lady Charlotte Stopford. 
He is fitting up a part of Bowhill and intends to shoot there this year. 
God send him life and health, for it is of immense consequence. 

February 6. — This and visits wasted my time till past two, and 
then I slept half-an-hour from mere exhaustion. Went in the even- 
ing to the play, and saw that good old thing, an English tragedy, well 
got up. It was Venice Preserved. Mrs. H. Siddons played Belvidera 
with much truth, feeling, and tenderness, though short of her mother- 
in-law's uncommon majesty, which is a thing never to be forgotten. 
Mr. Young played Pierre very well, and a good Jaffier was supplied 
by a Mr. Vandenhoff. And so the day glided by ; only three pages 
written, which, however, is a fair task. 

February 7. — It was a Teind day, so no Court, but very little work. 
I wrote this morning till the boy made his appearance for proofs ; 
then I had letters to write. Item, at five o'clock I set out with Charles 
for Dalkeith to present him to the young Duke. 

I asked the Duke about poor Hogg. I think he has decided to 
take Mr. Riddell's opinion ; it is unlucky the poor fellow has ever 
taken that large and dear farm.^ Altogether Dalkeith was melan- 
choly to-night, and I could not raise my spirits at all. 

February 8. — I had a little work before dinner, but we are only 
seven pages into volume second. It is always a beginning, however ; 
perhaps not a good one — I cannot tell. I went out to call on Gala 

1 Mount Bcnger, which he had taken in 1820. —See <xnU, p. 338. 



1828.] JOURNAL 353 

and Jack Rutlierfurd of Edgerstoun ; saw the former, not the latter. 
Gala is getting much better. He talked as if the increase of his vil- 
lage was like to drive him over the hill to the Abbotsf ord side, which 
would greatly beautify that side and certainly change his residence 
for the better, only that he must remain some time without any ap- 
pearance of plantation. The view would be enchanting. 

1 was tempted to buy a picture of Nell Gywnne,^ which I think 
has merit ; at least it pleases me. Seven or eight years ago Graham 
of Gartmore bid for it against me, and I gave it up at twenty-live 
guineas. I have now bought it for £18, 18s. Perhaps there was 
folly in this, but I reckoned it a token of good luck that I should 
succeed in a wish I had formerly harboured in vain. I love marks of 
good luck even in trifles. 

February 9. — Sent off three leaves of copy ; this is using the press 
like the famished sailor who was fed by a comrade with shell-fish by 
one at a time. But better anything than stop, for the devil is to get 
set a-going again. I know no more than my old boots Avhether I am 
right or wrong, but have no very favourable anticipations. 

As I came home from the Court about twelve I stepped into the 
Exhibition. It makes a very good show ; the portraits are better than 
last year, those of Colviu Smith and Watson Gordon especially im- 
prove. Landseer's Study at Abbotsford is in a capital light, and 
generally admired. I particularly distinguished John Thomson's 
picture of Turnberry, which is of first-rate excellence. A picture 
by Scrope was also generally distinguished. It is a view in Ca- 
labria. 

There is a rival Exhibition which does not hurt the earlier foun- 
dation, but rather excites emulation. I am told there are good paint- 
ings there. I came home with little good-will to work, but I will 
compel myself to do something. Unluckily, I have again to go out 
to dinner to-day, being President of the Bannatyne. 

The dinner was a pleasant one ; about thirty members attended. 
1 kept the chair till near eleven, and the company were very joyous. 

February 10. — I set myself doggedly to work, and turned off six 
leaves before dinner. Had to dinner Sir John Pringle, my dear Gala 
and his lady, and young Mackenzie and Miss Jardine. I was quite 
pleased to see Gala so well recovered of the consequences of his 
frightful fall, which hung about him so long. He is one of the kind- 
est and best-informed men whom I know. 

February 11. — I had Charles Young'' to breakfast with us, who 
gave us some striking anecdotes of Talma during the Reign of Ter- 
ror, which may figure in Napoleon to great advantage. 

My son Charles left us this morning to take possession of his 

i It now hangs in the Drawing-room at Ab- a visitor at Abbotsford in the autumn of 1821. 
botsford.— See Sharpe's Letters, vol. ii. p. 408. Of this visit his son Julian gives a pleasant ac- 

count in a Memoir of his father, pp. 88-96. 
3 Charles Mayne Young, Tragedian, had been London, 1871. Mr. Young died in June, 1856. 

23 



354 JOURNAL [Feb. 

situation in the Foreign OflSce. He has been very lucky. Correcting 
sheets, etc., took up the morning hours. I wrote three leaves before 
two o'clock. Day bitter cold — with snow, a strong contrast to the 
mild weather we had last week. 

Salutation of two old Scottish lairds : — " Ye 're maist obedient 
hummil servant, Tannachy TuUoh." — " Your nain man, Kilspindie." 

Finished six pages, twenty-five pages of print that is, or about 
the thirteenth part of a volume. That would be a volume in a 
fortnight, with a holiday to boot. It would be possible enough for a 
little while. 

February 12. — I wrought hard this morning. Ballantyne blames 
the Ossianic monotony of my principal characters. Now they are not 
Ossianic. The language of the Ossianic poetry is highly figurative ; 
that of the knights of chivalry may be monotonous, and probably is, 
but it cannot be Ossianic. Sooth to say, this species of romance of 
chivalry is an inexhaustible subject. It affords materials for splendid 
description for once or twice, but they are too unnatural and formal 
to bear repetition. We must go on with our present work, however, 
valeat quantum. Mr. Cadell, less critical than J. B., seems pleased. 
The world will soon decide if I get on at this rate ; for I have fin- 
ished four leaves to-day, notwithstanding my attendance on the 
Court. 

February 13. — Mr. Macintosh Mackay, minister of Laggan, break- 
fasted with us this morning. This reverend gentleman is completing 
the Highland Dictionary,* and seems very competent for the task. 
He left in my hands some papers of Cluny Macpherson, concerning 
the affair of 1745, from which I have extracted an account of the 
battle of Clifton for Waverley. He has few prejudices (for a High- 
lander), and is a mild, well-mannered young man. We had much talk 
on Highland matters. 

The Children's Tales continue in demand. Cadell expects a new 
edition of 10,000 about next year, which may be £750 or £800 in 
pouch, besides constituting a fine property. 

February 14. — Mr. Edwards, a candidate for the situation of Rec- 
tor in the Edinburgh Academy, a pleasant, gentlemanlike man, and 
recommended highly for experience and learning ; but he is himself 
afraid of wanting bodily strength for the work, which requires all the 
nerve and muscle of Williams. I wish he had been three inches 
taller, and stout in proportion. I went to Mr. John Russell's, where 
there was an Academical party at dinner. Home at nine, a cigar, 
and to bed. 

1 This enthusiastic Gaelic scholar, then par- The Gaelic dictionary of the Highland Socie- 

ish minister of Laggan, joined the Free Church ty was completed and published in 2 vols. 4to, 

of Scotland in 1843, and was elected Moderator 1828. The editor was Dr. Macleod of Dundon- 

of its General Assembly in 1849. As a clergy- aid, assisted by other Gaelic scholars. Dr. 

man, he had afterwards a varied experience in Mackay edited the poems of Rob Donn in 1829. 

this country and in Australia, before he finally —See Quarterly Review, July, 1831. 
settled in the island of Harris; he died at Por- 
tobello in 1873. 



1828.] JOURNAL 355 

February 15. — Rose this morning about seven and wrote at the 
desk till breakfast ; finished about a page and a half. I was fagged 
at Court till near two. Then called on Cadell, and so home, tired 
enough. 

February 16. — There dined with me to-day Tom Thomson, Will 
Clerk, Mr. Edwards, and my Celtic friend Mr. Mackay of Laggan. 

February 17. — A day of hard work, being I think eight pages* be- 
fore dinner. I cannot, I am sure, tell if it is worth marking down, 
that yesterday at dinner-time I was strangely haunted by what I 
would call the sense of pre-existence, — videlicet, a confused idea that 
nothing that passed was said for the first time, that the same topics 
had been discussed, and the same persons had stated the same opin- 
ions on the same subjects. It is true there might have been some 
ground for recollections, considering that three at least of the com- 
pany were old friends, and kept much company together : that is, 
Justice-Clerk,'* [Lord] Abercromby, and I. But the sensation was so 
strong as to resemble what is called a mirage in the desert, or a calen- 
ture on board ship, when lakes are seen in the desert, and silvan land- 
scapes in the sea. It was very distressing yesterday, and brought to 
my mind the fancies of Bishop Berkeley about an ideal world.. There 
was a vile sense of want of reality in all I did and said. It made me 
gloomy and out of spirits, though I flatter myself it was not observed. 
The bodily feeling which most resembles this unpleasing hallucina- 
tion is the giddy state which follows profuse bleeding, when one feels 
as if walking on feather-beds and could not find a secure footing. I 
think the stomach has something to do with it. I drank several 
glasses of wine, but these only augmented the disorder. I did not find 
the in vino Veritas of the philosophers. Something of this insane 
feeling remains to-day, but a trifle only. 

February 1 8. — I had other work to do this day. In the morning 
corrected proofs. After breakfast, made a visit or two, and met 
Sandie Buchanan, whom it joys me to see. Then despatched all my 
sheriff processes, save one, which hitches for want of some papers. 
Lastly, here I am, before dinner, with my journal. I sent all the 
county money to Andrew Lang. "Wrote to Mr. Reynolds too ; me- 
thinks I will let them have the Tales which Jem Ballantyne and Ca- 
dell quarrelled with.^ I have asked £500 for them — pretty well that. 
I suppose they will be fools enough to give it me. In troth she '11 no 
pe cheaper. 

February 19.— A day of hard and continued work, the result be- 
ing eight pages. But then I hardly ever quitted the table save at 
meal-time. So eight pages of my manuscript may be accounted the 
maximum of my literary labour. It is equal to forty printed pages 
of the novels. I had the whole of this day at my own disposal, by 



» See under Feb. 19. 3 My Aunt MargareVs Mirror, etc. 

9 The Right Hon. David Boyle, 



356 JOURNAL [Feb. 

the voluntary kindness of Sir Robert Dundas interfering to take up 
my duty at the Court. The proofs of my Sermons are arrived, but I 
have had no time, saving to blot out some flummery, which poor 
Gordon had put into the preface.^ 

February 20. — Another day of labour ; but not so hard. I 
worked from eight till three with little intermission, but only ac- 
complished four pages. Then I went out and made a visit or two, 
and looked in on Cadell. If I get two pages in the evening I will be 
satisfied, for volume ii. may be concluded with the week, or run over 
to Sunday at most. Will it tell, this work ? I doubt it, but there is 
no standing still. 

A certain Mr. Mackay from Ireland called on me, an active agent, 
it would seem, about the reform of prisons. He exclaims, justly I 
have no doubt, about the state of our Lock-up House. For myself, I 
have some distrust of the fanaticism — even of philanthropy. A good 
part of it arises in general from mere vanity and love of distinction, 
gilded over to others and to themselves with some show of benevo- 
lent sentiment. The philanthropy of Howard, mingled with his ill- 
usage of his son, seems to have risen to a pitch of insanity. Yet 
without such extraordinary men, who call attention to the subject by 
their own peculiarities, prisons would have remained the same dun- 
geons which they were forty or fifty years ago. I do not see the pro- 
priety of making them dandy places of detention. They should be a 
place of punishment, and that can hardly be if men are lodged better, 
and fed better, than when they are at large. The separation of ranks 
is an excellent distinction, and is nominally provided for in all mod- 
ern prisons. But the size of most of them is inadequate to the great 
increase of crime, and so the pack is shuffled together again for want 
of room to keep them separate. There are several prisons construct- 
ed on excellent principles, the economy of which becomes deranged 
so soon as the death takes place of some keen philanthropist who 
had the business of a whole committee, which, having lost him, re- 
mained like a carcass without a head. But I have never seen a plan 
for keeping in order these resorts of guilt and misery, without pre- 
supposing a superintendence of a kind which might perhaps be ex- 
ercised, could we turn out upon the watch a guard of angels. But, 
alas ! jailors and turnkeys are rather like angels of a different livery, 
nor do I see how it is possible to render them otherwise. Superin- 
tendence is all you can trust to, and superintendence, save in some 
rare cases, is hard to come by, where it is to be vigilantly and con- 
stantly exercised. Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? As to reformation, 
I have no great belief in it, when the ordinary class of culprits, who 
are vicious from ignorance or habit, are the subjects of the experi- 
ment. "A shave from a broken loaf "is thought as little of by the 
male set of delinquents as by the fair frail. The state of society 

1 See Jan. 25, 1828 (p. 348). 



1828.] JOURNAL 357 

now leads so much to great accumulations of humanity,, that we can- 
not wonder if it ferment and reek like a compost dunghill. Nature 
intended that population should be diffused over the soil in propor- 
tion to its extent. We have accumulated in huge cities and smoth- 
ering manufactories the numbers which should be spread over the 
face of a country ; and what wonder that they should be corrupted? 
We have turned healthful and pleasant brooks into morasses and 
pestiferous lakes, — what wonder the soil should be unhealthy? A 
great deal, I think, might be done by executing the punishment of 
deaths without a chance of escape, in all cases to which it should be 
found properly applicable ; of course these occasions being dimin- 
ished to one out of twenty to which capital punishment is now as- 
signed. Our ancestors brought the country to order by kilting^ 
thieves and banditti with strings. So did the French when at Na- 
ples, and bandits became for the time unheard of. When once the 
evil habit is altered — when men are taught a crime of a certain char- 
acter is connected inseparably with death, the moral habits of a pop- 
ulation become altered, and you may in the next age remit the pun- 
ishment j^hich in this it has been necessary to inflict with stern 
severity. I think whoever pretends to reform a corrupted nation, or 
a disorderly regiment, or an ill-ordered ship of war, must begin by 
severity, and only resort to gentleness when he has acquired the 
complete mastery by terror — the terror being always attached to the 
law ; and, the impression once made, he can afford to govern with 
mildness, and lay the iron rule aside. 

Mr. Mackay talked big of the excellent state of prisons in Ireland. 
J'' en doute un pen. That the warm-hearted and generous Irish would 
hurry eagerly into any scheme which had benevolence for its motive, I 
readily believe ; but that Pat should have been able to maintain that 
calm, all-seeing, all-enduring species of superintendence necessary to 
direct the working of the best plan of prison discipline, I greatly 
hesitate to believe. 

Well, leaving all this, I wish Mr. Mackay good luck, with some 
little doubt of his success, but none of his intentions. I am come in 
my work to that point where a lady who works a stocking must 
count by threads, and bring the various loose ends of my story to- 
gether. They are too many. 

February 21. — Last night after dinner I rested from my work, 
and read third part of [Theodore Hook's] Sayings and Doings, which 
shows great knowledge of life in a certain sphere, and very consider- 
able powers of wit, which somewhat damages the effect of the tragic 
parts. But he is an able writer, and so much of his work is well 
said, that it will carry through what is manque. I hope the same 
good fortune for other folks. 

* To kilt, i.e., to elevate or lift up anything "Their bare preaching now 

quickly; this applied, ludicrously, to tucking 5?!^*".*v^ ^V"!*" ''"'^ ^f.^? *,''.* '=°'' 

bv a halter —Tamip^nn'^ TiirHnnnr^i ^^"®'" ^^^^ ^''"^^ °^ English kings 

ay a naiier.— jamieson s mctionary. Could do by kilting them with strings." 

Clblano, 



358 JOURNAL [Feb. 

I am watching and waiting till I hit on some quaint and clever 
mode of extricating, but do not see a glimpse of any one. James B., 
too, discourages me a good deal by his silence, waiting, I suppose, to 
be invited to disgorge a full allowance of his critical bile. But he 
may wait long enough, for I am discouraged enough. Now here is 
the advantage of Edinburgh. In the country, if a sense of inability 
once seizes me, it haunts me from morning to night ; but in Edin- 
burgh the time is so occupied and frittered away by official duties 
and chance occupation, that you have not time to play Master Stephen 
and be gentlemanlike and melancholy.^ On the other hand, you 
never feel in town those spirit-stirring influences — those glances of 
sunshine that make amends for clouds and mist. The country is 
said to be quieter life ; not to me, I am sure. In the town the busi- 
ness I have to do hardly costs me more thought than just occupies 
my mind, and I have as much of gossip and ladylike chat as con- 
sumes the time pleasantly enough. In the country I am thrown en- 
tirely on my own resources, and there is no medium betwixt happi- 
ness and the reverse. 

February 22. — Went to Court, and remained there .until one 
o'clock. Then to Mr. Colvin Smith's and sat to be stared at till three 
o'clock. This is a great bore even when you have a companion, sad 
when you are alone and can only disturb the painter by your chatter. 
After dinner I had proofs to the number of four. J. B. is outra- 
geous about the death of Oliver Proudfoot, one of the characters ; 
but I have a humour to be cruel. 

"His business 'tis to die." 

Received a present from a Mr. Dobic of a candlestick said to be that 
of the Rev. Mr. Guthrie, minister of Fenwick in the seventeenth cen- 
tury, — very civil of a gentleman unknown, if there comes no request 
to look over poems, or to get made a ganger, or the like, for I have 
seen that kind of compliment made on the principle on which small 
balloons are sent up before a large one, to see how the wind sits. 
After dinner proof-sheets. 

February 23. — Morning proof-sheets galore. Then to Parliament 
House. After that, at one, down to Sir William MacLeod Bannatyne, 
who has made some discoveries concerning Bannatyne the collector 
of poetry, and furnished me with some notes to that purpose. He 
informs me that the MacLeod, alias MacCruiskin, who met Dr. John- 
son on the Isle of Skye, was Mr. Alexander MacLeod, Advocate, a son 
of MacLeod of Muiravonside. He was subject to fits of insanity at 
times, very clever at others.'' Sir William mentioned the old Laird 
of Bern era, who, summoned by his Chief to join him with all the men 



1 See Johnson's Every Man in his Humour, ' See Boswell's Johnson, Croker's ed. imp. 

Act I. Sc. 3. 8vo, p. 318. 



1828.] JOURNAL 359 

he could make, when the Chief was raising his men for G-overnment, 
sent him a letter to this purpose : — " Dear Laird, — No man would 
like better to be at your back than I would ; but on this occasion it 
cannot be. I send my men, who are at your service ; for myself, 
higher duties carry me elsewhere." He went off accordingly alone, 
and joined Raasay as a volunteer. I returned by the printing-office 
and found J. B. in great feather. He tells me Cadell, on squaring his 
books and making allowance for bad debts, has made between £3000 
and £4000, lodged in bank. He does nothing but with me. Thus 
we stand on velvet as to finance. Met Staffa,^ who walked with me 
and gave me some Gaelic words which I wanted. 

I may mention that I saw at the printing-office a part of a review 
on Leigh Hunt's Anecdotes of Byron. It is written with power, ap- 
parently by Professor Wilson, but with a degree of passion which 
rather diminishes the effect ; for nothing can more lessen the dignity 
of the satirist than being or seeming to be in a passion. I think it 
may come to a bloody arbitrament,^ for if L. H. should take it up as 
a gentleman, Wilson is the last man to flinch. I hope Lockhart will 
not be dragged in as second or otherwise. Went to Jeffrey's to din- 
ner — there were Mrs. and Miss Sydney Smith, Lords Gillies and Core- 
house, etc., etc. 

February 24. — I fancy I had drunk a glass or two over much last 
night, for I have the heartburn this morning. But a little magnesia 
salves that sore. Meantime I have had an inspiration which shows 
me my good angel has not left me. For these two or three days I 
have been at what the "Critic " calls a dead-lock^ — all my incidents 
and personages ran into a gordian knot of confusion, to which I could 
devise no possible extrication. I had thought on the subject several 
days with something like the despair which seized the fair princess, 
commanded by her ugly step-mother to assort a whole garret full of 
tangled silk threads of every kind and colour, when in comes Prince 
Percinet with a wand, whisks it over the miscellaneous mass, and lo ! 
all the threads are as nicely arranged as in a seamstress' housewife. 
It has often happened to me that when I went to bed with my head 
as ignorant as my shoulders what I was to do next, I have waked in 
the morning with a distinct and accurate conception of the mode, 
good or bad, in which the plot might be extricated. It seems to me 

1 Sir Reginald Steuart Seton of Staffa, for rancour m February, 1821 (Scott and Christie), 
many years Secretary to the Highland and Ag- and in March. 1822 (Stuart and Boswell), with 
ricultural Society; died at Edinburgh in 1838. all the untold domestic miseries accompanying 

2 On reading the savage article on Hunt's them. It is satisfactory to think that this'was 
Byron published in Blackwood for March, 1828, about the last of these uncalled for literary on- 
Sir Walter's thoughts must have gone back not slaughts, as one finds, in turning over the pages 
only to Gourgaud's affair of the previous year, of Blackwood, that in 1834, Professor Wilson 
and to the more serious matter of the Beacon in the Nodes rebukes some one for reviving 
newspaper in 1821,— when, to use Lord Cock- "forgotten falsehoods," praises Leigh Hunt's 
burn's words, " it was dreadful to think that a London Journal, and adds the ecstatic words, 
life like Scott's was for a moment in peril in which he also addressed later on to Lord Jef- 
suoh acause"— buthe must also have had very frey, "The animosities are mortal, but the hu- 
sad recollections of the bloody results of the two manities live for ever." 

melancholy duels arising from the same party 3 Act in. Sc. I. 



360 JOURNAL [Feb. 

that the action of the intellect, on such occasions, is rather accelerated 
by the little fever which an extra glass of wine produces on the sys- 
tem. Of course excess is out of the question. Now this may seem 
strange, but it is quite true ; and it is no less so that I have generally 
written to the middle of one of these novels, without having the least 
idea how it was to end, in short in the hah nab at a venture style of 
composition. So now, this hitch being over, I fold my paper, lock 
up my journal, and proceed to labour with good hope. 

February 25. — This being Monday, I carried on my work accord- 
ing to the new model. Dined at home and in quiet. But I may 
notice that yesterday Mr. Williams, the learned Rector of our new 
x\cademy, who now leaves us, took his dinner here. We had a long- 
philological tete-a-tete. He is opinionative, as he has some title to 
be, but very learned, and with a juster view of his subject than is 
commonly entertained, for he traces words to the same source — not 
from sound but sense. He casts backwards thus to the root, while 
many compare the ends of the twigs without going further. 

This night I went to the funeral of Mr. Henderson, late of Eildon 
Hall, a kind-hearted man, who rose to great wealth by honest means, 
and will be missed and regretted. 

In the evening I went to the promenade in the Exhibition of Pict- 
ures, which was splendidly lighted up and filled with fashionable 
company. I think there was a want of beauty, — or perhaps the gas- 
lights were unfavourable to the ladies' looks. 

February 26. — Business filled up the day till one, when I sat to 
Mr. Smith. Tedious work, even though Will Clerk chaperoned me. 
We dined at Archie Swinton's. Met Lord Lothian, Lord Cringletie, 
etc. This day I have wrought almost nothing, but I am nearly half 
a volume before the press. Lord Morton,' married to a daughter of 
my friend Sir George Rose, is come to Edinburgh. He seems a very 
gentlemanlike man, and she pleasing and willing to be pleased. I 
had the pleasure to be of some little use to him in his election as one 
of the Scottish Peers. I owe Sir George Rose much for his attention 
to Walter at Berlin. 

February 27. — At Court till half -past two. Then to the Waterloo 
Tavern, where we had a final and totally unfructuous meeting with 
the Committee of the Coal Gas people. So now my journey to Lon- 
don is resolved on. I shall lose at least £500 by the job, and get lit- 
tle thanks from those I make the sacrifice for. But the sacrifice shall 
be made. Anything is better than to break one's word, or desert a 
sinking vessel. Heartily do I wish these "Colliers" had seen the 
matter in the best light for their own interest. But there is no help. 
One thing is certain, that I shall see my whole family once more 
around me, and that is worth the £500. Anne too starts at the idea 
of the sea. I am horribly vexed, however. Gibson always expected 

1 Sholto Douglas, eighteenth Earl of Morton. 



1828.] JOURNAL 361 

they would come in, but there seemed to me little chance of it ; per- 
haps they thought we were not serious in our proposal to push through 
the Act. Wrought a little in the evening, not much. 

February 28. — At Court till Four. When I came home I did 
work a little, but as we expected company it was not to much pur- 
pose. Lord Chief -Commissioner dined with us with Miss Adam ; 
Mr. Hutchinson, brother of Lord Donoughmore, and Miss Jones, Will 
Clerk and John Thomson made up the party, and we had a pleasant 
evening, as such a handful always secures. Stayed till wine-and- 
water time. Thus flew another day. 

February 29. — I had my proof-sheets as usual in the morning 
and the Court as usual till two. Then one or two visits and correct- 
ed the discourses for Gordon. This is really a foolish scrape, but 
what could I do ? It involved the poor lad's relief from something 
very like ruin. I got a letter from the young man Reynolds accept- 
ing on Heath's part my terms for article to The Keepsake ^ namely 
£500, — I to be at liberty to reprint the article in my works after 
three years. Mr. Heath to print it in The Keepsake as long and often 
as he pleases, but not in any other form. I shall close with them. If 
I make my proposed bargain with Murray, all pecuniary matters will 
be easy in an unusual degree. Dined at Robert Hamilton's with 
Lord and Lady Belhaven, Walter Campbell, and a number of West- 
landers. 



MARCH 

March 1. — Wrought a little this morning; always creeping on. 
We had a hard pull at the Court, and after it I walked a little for 
exercise, as I fear indigestion from dining out so often. 

Dined to-day with the bankers who went as delegates to London 
in Malachi Malagrowther's days. Sir John Hay Kinnear and Tom 
Allan were my only acquaintances of the party; the rest seemed 
shrewd capable men. I particularly remarked a Mr. Sandeman with 
as intellectual a head as I ever witnessed. 

March 2. — A day of hard work with little interruption, and com- 
pleted volume second. I am not much pleased with it. It wants 
what I desire it to have, and that is passion. 

The two Ballantynes and Mr. Cadell dined with me quietly. 
Heard from London ; all well. 

March 3. — I set about clearing my desk of unanswered letters, 
which I had suffered to accumulate to an Augean heap. I daresay I 
wrote twenty cards that might have been written at the time without 
half-a-minute being lost. To do everything when it ought to be 
done is the soul of expedition. But then, if you are interrupted 
eternally with these petty avocations, the current of the mind is com- 
pelled to flow in shallows, and you lose the deep intensity of thought 
which alone can float plans of depth and magnitude. I sometimes 
wish I were one of those formalists who can assign each hour of the 
day its special occupations, not to be encroached upon ; but it always 
returns upon my mind that I do better a la dehandade than I could 
with rules of regular study. A work begun is with me a stone 
turned over with the purpose of rolling it down hill. The first revo- 
lutions are made with diflSculty — but vires acquirit eundo. Now, 
were the said stone arrested in its progress, the whole labour would 
be to commence again. To take a less conceited simile : I am like a 
spavined horse, who sets out lame and stiff, but when he warms in 
his gear makes a pretty good trot of it, so that it is better to take a 
good stage of him while you can get it. Besides, after all, I have 
known most of those formalists, who were not men of business or of 
office to whom hours are prescribed as a part of duty, but who volun- 
tarily makes themselves 

"Slaves to an hour, and vassals to a bell,"' — 

to be what I call very poor creatures. 

> Oldham— " Lines addressed to a friend about to leave the University."— Poems and Transla- 
tions, 8vo. Lond. 1694. 



March, 1828.] JOURNAL 363 

General Ainslie looked in, and saddened me by talking of poor 
Don. The General is a medallist, and entertains an opinion that the 
bonnet-piece of James v. is the work of some Scottish artist who died 
young, and never did anything else. It is far superior to anything 
which the Mint produced since the Roman denarii. He also told me 
that the name of Andrea de Ferrara is famous in Italy as an ar- 
mourer. 

Dined at home, and went to the Royal Society in the evening af- 
ter sending off my processes for the Sheriff Court. Also went after 
the Society to Mr. James Russell's symposium. 

March 4. — A letter from Italy signed J. S. with many acute re- 
marks on inaccuracies in the life of Bonaparte. 

His tone is hostile decidedly, but that shall not prevent my mak- 
ing use of all his corrections where just. 

The wretched publication of Leigh Hunt on the subject of Byron 
is to bring forward Tom Moore's life of that distinguished poet, and 
I am honoured and flattered by the information that he means to 
dedicate it to me.* 

A great deal of worry in the Court to-day, and I lost my specta- 
cles, and was a dark and perplexed man — found them again though. 
Wrote to Lockhart and to Charles, and will do more if I can, but am 
sadly done up. An old friend came and pressed unmercifully some 
selfish request of his own to ask somebody to do something for his 
son. I shall be glad to be at Abbotsford to get rid of this town, 
where I have not, in the proper and social sense of the word, a single 
friend whose company pleases me. In the country I have alway? 
Tom Purdie. 

Dined at the Lord Chief-Commissioner's, where I met, the first 
time for thirty years, my old friend and boon companion, with whom 
I shared the wars of Bacchus, Venus, and sometimes of Mars. The 
past rushed on me like a flood and almost brought tears into my eyes. 
It is no very laudable exploit to record, but I once drank three bot- 
tles of wine with this same rogue — Sir William Forbes and Sir Alex- 
ander Wood being of the party. David Erskine of Cardross keeps 
his looks better than most of our contemporaries. I hope we shall 
meet for a longer time. 

March 5. — I corrected sheets, and, being a Teind Wednesday, be- 
gan the second volume and proceeded as far as page fourth. 

We dined at Hector Macdonald's with several Highlanders, most 
of whom were in their garb, intending to go to a great fancy ball in 
the evening. There were young Cluny Macpherson, Campbell Airds, 
Campbell Saddell, and others of the race of Diarmid. I went for an 
hour to the ball, where there were many gay and some grotesque fig- 

> On the 20th April Moore writes to Scott: < With folly at full length between.' 

" I am delighted you do not reject my proffered 

dedication, though between two such names as However, never mind ; in cordial feeling and 

yours and Byron's I shall but realise the de- good fellowship I flatter myself I am a match 

scription in the old couplet of Wisdom and Wit, for either of you. " 



364 JOURNAL [March 

ures. A dressed ball is, for the first half-hour, a splendid spectacle ; 
you see youth and beauty dressed in their gayest attire, unlimited, 
save by their own taste, and enjoying the conscious power of charm- 
ing, which gives such life and alacrity to the features. But the charm 
ceases in this like everything else. The want of masks takes away 
the audacity with which the disguised parties conduct themselves at 
a masquerade, and [leaves] the sullen sheepishness which makes them, 
I suppose, the worst maskers in Europe. At the only real masquer- 
ade which I have known in Edinburgh there were many, if not most, 
of those who had determined to sustain characters, who had more ill- 
breeding than facetiousness. The jests were chiefly calculated to 
give pain, and two or three quarrels were with diflSculty prevented 
from ripening into duels. A fancy ball has no offence in it, therefore 
cannot be wrecked on this rock. But, on the other hand, it is horri- 
bly dull work when the first cowp d'oeil is over. 

There were some good figures, and some grossly absurd. A very 
gay cavalier with a broad bright battle-axe was pointed out to me as 
an eminent distiller, and another knight in the black coarse armour 
of a cuirassier of the lYth century stalked about as if he thought 
himself the very mirror of chivalry. He was the son of a cele- 
brated upholsterer, so might claim the broad axe from more titles 
than one. There was some good dancing ; Cluny Macpherson foot- 
ed it gallantly. 

March 6. — Wrote two pages this morning before breakfast. Went 
to the Court, where I learned that the " Colliers" are in alarm at the 
determination shown by our Committee, and are willing to give bet- 
ter terms. I hope this is so — but Cogan na Shie — peace or war, I 
care not. I never felt less anxiety about where I went and what I 
did. A feather just lighted on the ground can scarce be less con- 
cerned where the next blast may carry it. If I go, I shall see my 
children — if I stay, I shall mend my fortune. Dined at home and 
went to the play in the evening. Lady Torphichen had commanded 
the play, and there were all my Swinton cousins young and old. The 
play was " A Bold Stroke for a Wife," ^ — Charles Kemble acting as 
Feignwell. The plot is extravagant nonsense, but with lively acting 
the ludicrousness of the situation bears it through, and few comedies 
act better. After this came Roh Roy, where the Bailie played with 
his usual excellence. The piece was not over until near one in the 
morning, yet I did not feel tired — which is much. 

March 7. — To-day I wrought and corrected proof-sheets ; went to 
the Court, and had a worry at the usual trashy small wares which are 
presented at the end of a Session. An official predecessor of mine, 
the facetious Robert Sinclair, was wont to say the three last days of 
the Session should be abolished by Act of Parliament.^ Came home 
late, and was a good deal broken in upon by visitors. Amongst 

» By Mrs. Centlivre. » See Life, vol. viii. p. 257 n. 



1828.] JOURNAL 365 

others, John Swinton, now of Swinton, brought me the skull of his 
ancestor, Sir Allan Swinton, who flourished five hundred years ago. 
I will get a cast made of the stout old carle. It is rare to see a genu- 
ine relic of the mortal frame drawing so far back. Went to my Lord 
Gillies's to dinner, and witnessed a singular exhibition of personifica- 
tion. 

Miss Stirling Grame,' a lady of the Duntroon family, from which 
Clavers was descended, looks like thirty years old, and has a face of 
the Scottish cast, with a good expression in point of good sense and 
good humour. Her conversation, so far as I have had the advantage 
of hearing it, is shrewd and sensible, but no ways brilliant. She dined 
with us, went off as to the play, and returned in the character of an 
old Scottish lady. Her dress and behaviour were admirable, and the 
conversation unique. I was in the secret, of course, did my best to 
keep up the ball, but she cut me out of all feather. The prosing ac- 
count she gave of her son, the antiquary, who found an auld wig in a 
slate quarry, was extremely ludicrous, and she puzzled the Professor 
of Agriculture with a merciless account of the succession of crops in 
the parks around her old mansion-house. No person to whom the 
secret was not intrusted had the least guess of an impostor, except 
one shrewd young lady present, who observed the hand narrowly 
and saw it was plumper than the age of the lady seemed to war- 
rant. This lady, and Miss BelP of Coldstream, have this gift of 
personification to a much higher degree than any person I ever saw. 

March 8. — Wrote in the morning, then to Court, where we had a 
sederunt till nigh two o'clock. From thence to the Coal Gas Com- 
mittee, with whom we held another, and, thank God, a final meeting. 
Gibson went with me. They had Mr. Munro, Trotter, Tom Burns, 
and Inglis. The scene put me in mind of Chichester Cheyne's story 
of a Shawnee Indian and himself, dodging each other from behind 
trees, for six or seven hours, each in the hope of a successful shot. 
There was bullying on both sides, but we bullied to best purpose, for 

1 Miss Graham tells us in her Mystifications sayings as Sir Walter himself. For example, 

(Edin. 1864) that Sir Walter, on leaving the speaking of a field of cold, wet land she said, 

room, whispered in her ear, " Awa, awa, the "It grat a' winter and girned a' simmer," and 

Deil 's ower grit wi' you." "To meet her in of herself one morning at breakfast when she 

company," wrote Dr.' John Brown half a cen- thought she was getting too much attention 

tury later, when she was still the charm and from her guests (she was at this time over 

the delight as well as the centre of a large cir- ninety) she exclaimed, "I'm like the bride in 

cle of friends, "one saw a quiet, unpretending, the old song: — 

sensible, shrewd, kindly little lady; perhaps ,„ ^, . 

you would not remark anything extraordinary And Xl^ wlr^bi^S a\ £ Xon .' » 
m her, but let her put on the old lady ; it was 

as if a warlock spell had passed over her; not Miss Graham's friends will never forget the 

merely her look but her nature was changed: evenings they have spent at 29 Forth Street, 

her spirit had passed into the character she Edinburgh, or their visits at Duntrune, where 

represented; and jest, quick retort, whimsical the venerable lady died in her ninety-sixth 

fancy, the wildest nonsense flowed from her year in September, 1877. 

lips, with a freedom and truth to nature which 2 Miss Elizabeth Bell, daughter of the Rev. 

appeared to be impossible in her own person- James Bell, minister of the parish of Cold- 

ality." stream from 1778 to 1794. This lady lived all 

With this faculty for satire and imitation, her life in her native county, and died at a 

Miss Graham never used it to give pain. She great age at a house on the Tweed, named 

was as much at home, too, with old Scotch Springhill, in 1876. 



366 JOURNAL [March 

we must have surrendered at discretion, notwithstanding the bold face 
we put on it. On the other hand, I am convinced they have got a 
capital bargain. 

March 9. — I set about arranging my papers, a task which I al- 
ways take up with the greatest possible ill-will and which makes me 
cruelly nervous. I don't know why it should be so, for I have noth- 
ing particularly disagreeable to look at ; far from it, I am better than 
I was at this time last year, my hopes firmer, my health stronger, my 
affairs bettered and bettering. Yet I feel an inexpressible nervous- 
ness in consequence of this employment. The memory, though it 
retains all that has passed, has closed sternly over it ; and this rum- 
maging, like a bucket dropped suddenly into a well, deranges and 
confuses the ideas which slumbered on the mind. I am nervous, 
and I am bilious, and, in a word, I am unhappy. This is wrong, very 
wrong ; and it is reasonably to be apprehended that something of se- 
rious misfortune will be the deserved punishment of this pusillani- 
mous lowness of spirits. Strange that one who, m most things, may 
be said to have enough of the " care na by ", should be subject to such 
vile weakness ! Well, having written myself down an ass, I will daub 
it no farther, but e'en trifle till the humour of work comes. 

Before the humour came I had two or three long visits. Drum- 
mond Hay, the antiquary and lyon-herald, came in.^ I do not know 
anything which relieves the mind so much from the sullens as tri- 
fling discussion about antiquarian old-ivomanries. It is like knitting 
a stocking, diverting the mind without occupying it ; or it is like, by 
Our Lady, a mill-dam, which leads one's thoughts gently and imper- 
ceptibly out of the channel in which they are chafing and boiling. 
To be sure, it is only conducting them to turn a child's mill ; what 
signifies that ? — the diversion is a relief, though the object is of little 
importance. I cannot tell what we talked of ; but I remember we 
concluded with a lamentation on the unlikelihood that Government 
would give the Museum £2000 to purchase the bronze Apollo lately 
discovered in France, although the God of Delos stands six feet two 
in his stocking-soles, and is perfectly entire, saving that on the right 
side he wants half a hip, and the leg from the knee, and that on the 
left his heel is much damaged. Colonel Ferguson just come to town 
— dines with us. 

March 10. — I had a world of trumpery to do this morning: cards 
to write, and business to transact, visits to make, etc. Received let- 
ters from the youth who is to conduct The Keepsake, with blarney on 
a £200 Bank note. No blarney in that. I must set about doing 
something for these worthies. I was obliged to go alone to dine 
at Mr. Scott Gala's. Met the Sinclair family. Lady Sinclair told me 
a singular story of a decrepit man keeping a lonely toll at a place 
called the Rowan-tree, on the frontiers, as I understood, between 

1 ArUe, p. 166. 



1828.] JOURNAL 367 

Ayrshire and Dumfriesshire [Wigtownshire ?]. It was a wild, lonely 
spot, and was formerly inhabited by robbers and assassins, who mur- 
dered passengers. They were discovered by a boy whom they had 
taken into the cottage as a menial. He had seen things which 
aroused his attention, and was finally enlightened as to the trade of 
his masters by hearing one of them, as he killed a goat, remark that 
the cries of the creature resembled those of the last man they had 
dealt with. The boy fled from the house, lodged an information, 
and the whole household was seized and executed. The present in- 
habitants Lady Sinclair described as interesting. The man's feet 
and legs had been frost-bitten while herding the cattle, and never re- 
covered the strength of natural limbs. Yet he had acquired some 
education, and was a country schoolmaster for some time, till the dis- 
tance and loneliness of the spot prevented pupils from attending. 
His daughter was a reader, and begged for some old magazines, 
newspapers, or any printed book, that she might enjoy reading. 
They might have been better had they been allowed to keep a cow. 
But if they had been in comfortable circumstances, they would have 
had visitors and lodgers, who might have carried guns to destroy the 
gentleman's creation, i.e, game ; and for this risk the wretches were 
kept in absolute and abject poverty. I would rather be him- 
self than this brutal Earl. The daughter showed Lady Sinclair a 
well in the midst of a small bog, of great depth, into which, like 
Thurtell and Probert, they used to thrust the bodies of their victims 
till they had an opportunity of burying them. Lady Sinclair stooped 
to taste the water, but the young woman said, with a strong expres- 
sion of horror, "You would not drink it?" Such an impression 
had the tale, probably two centuries old, made upon the present in- 
habitants of this melancholy spot. The whole legend is curious ; I 
will try to get hold of it.^ 

March 11. — I sent Reynolds a sketch of two Scottish stories for 
subjects of art for his Keepsake — the death of the Laird's Jock the 
one, the other the adventure of Duncan Stuart with the stag. 

Mr. Drummond Hay breakfasted with me — a good fellow, but a 
considerable bore. He brought me a beautiful bronze statue of Her- 
cules, about ten inches or a foot in height, beautifully wrought. He 
bought it in France for 70 francs, and refused £300 from Payne 
Knight. It is certainly a most beautiful piece of art. The lion's 
hide which hung over the shoulders had been of silver, and, to turn 
it to account, the arm over which it hung was cut off ; otherwise the 
statue was perfect and extremely well wrought. Allan Swinton's 
skull sent back to Archibald Swinton. 

March 12. — The boy got four leaves of copy to-day, and I wrote 
three more. Received by Mr. Cadell from Treuttel and Wurtz for 
articles in Foreign Review £52, 10s., which is at my credit with him. 

1 TAe Murder Hole, a story founded on the tradition and under this name, was printed in 
Blackwood's Mag., vol. xxv. p. 189: 1829. 



368 JOURNAL [March 

Poor Gillies has therefore kept his word so far, but it is enough to 
have sacrificed £100 to him already in literary labour, which I make 
him welcome to. I cannot spare him more — which, besides, would 
do him no good. 

March 13, \Abbotsford\. — I wrote a little in the morning and sent 
off some copy. We came off from Edinburgh at ten o'clock, and got 
to Abbotsford by four, where everything looks unusually advanced ; 
the birds singing and the hedges budding, and all other prospects of 
spring too premature to be rejoiced in. 

I found that, like the foolish virgins, the servants had omitted to 
get oil for my lamp, so I was obliged to be idle all the evening. But 
though I had a diverting book, the Tales of the Munster Festivals,^ 
yet an evening without writing hung heavy on my hands. The Tales 
are admirable. But they have one fault, that the crisis is in more 
cases than one protracted after a keen interest has been excited, to 
explain and to resume parts of the story which should have been told 
before. Scenes of mere amusement are often introduced betwixt the 
crisis of the plot and the final catastrophe. This is impolitic. But 
the scenes and characters are traced by a firm, bold, and true pencil, 
and my very criticism shows that the catastrophe is interesting, — 
otherwise who would care for its being interrupted ? 

March [14 to] 16. — The same record applies to these three days. 
From seven to half-past nine writing — from half-past nine to a quar- 
ter past ten a hearty breakfast. From eleven or thereby, to one or 
two, wrote again, and from one or two ride, drive, or walk till dinner- 
time — for two or three hours — five till seven, dine and rest yourself 
— seven till nine, wrote two pages more, from nine to quarter past ten 
lounge, read the papers, and then go to bed. If your story is toler- 
ably forward you may, I think, keep at this rate for twelve days, 
which would be a volume. But no brain could hold it out longer. 
Wrote two additional leaves in the evening. 

March 17. — Sent away copy this morning to J. B. with proofs. I 
then wrote all the day till two o'clock, walked round the thicket and 
by the water-side, and returning set to work again. So that I have 
finished five leaves before dinner, and may discuss two more if I can 
satisfy myself with the way of winding up the story. There are al- 
ways at the end such a plaguey number of stitches to take up, which 
usually are never so well done but they make a botch. I will try if 
the cigar will inspire me. Hitherto I have been pretty clear, and I 
see my way well enough, only doubt of making others see it with 
sufficient simplicity. But it is near five, and I am too hungry to 
write more.' 

" Ego nunquam potui scribere jejunus." 

March 18. — I was sorely worried by the black dog this morning, 

» Written by Gerald Griffin. » St. Valentine^s Eve, or The Fair Maid of 

Perth. 



1828.] JOURNAL 369 

that vile palpitation of the heart — that tremor cordis — that hysterical 
passion which forces unbidden sighs and tears, and falls upon a con- 
tented life like a drop of ink on white paper, which is not the less a 
stain because it conveys no meaning. I wrought three leaves, how- 
ever, and the story goes on. I dined at the Club of the Selkirkshire, 
yeomanry, now disbanded. 

"The Eldrich knight gave up his arms 
With many a sorrowful sigh." 

The dissolution of the Yeomanry was the act of the last ministry. 
The present did not alter the measure on account of the expense 
saved. I am one of the oldest, if not the very oldest Yeoman in 
Scotland, and have seen the rise, progress, and now the fall of this 
very constitutional part of the national force. Its efficacy, on oc- 
casions of insurrection, was sufficiently proved in the Radical time. 
But besides, it kept up a spirit of harmony between the proprietors 
of land and the occupiers, and made them known to and beloved by 
each other ; and it gave to the young men a sort of military and 
high-spirited character, which always does honour to a country. The 
manufacturers are in great glee on this occasion. I wish Parlia- 
ment, as they have turned the Yeoman adrift somewhat scornfully, 
may not have occasion to roar them in again. ^ 

March 19. — I applied myself again to my labour, my mind flow- 
ing in a less gloomy current than yesterday. I laboured with little 
interruption, excepting a walk as far as Faldonside with the dogs, and 
at night I had not finished more than three leaves. But, indeed, it 
is pretty fair ; I must not work my brains too hard, in case of pro- 
voking the hypochondria which extreme exertion or entire indolence 
are equally unfavourable to. 

March 20. — Thomson breakfasted. I left him soon, being desir- 
ous to finish my labours. The volume is finished, all but one fourth 
or somewhat shorter ; four days should despatch it easily, but I have 
letters to write and things are getting into disorder. I took a drive 
with my daughter, for exercise, and called at Huntly Burn. This 
evening went on with work as usual ; there was not above four pages 
finished, but my conscience is quiet on my exertions. 

March 21. — I received young Whytbank to breakfast, and talked 
genealogy, which he understands well ; I have not a head for it. I 
only value it as interspersed with anecdote. Whytbank's relationship 
and mine exists by the Shaws. A younger brother of Shaw of Sau- 
chie, afterwards Greenock, chief of the name, was minister of the 
Kirk of Selkirk. My great-grandfather, John Rutherford, minister 
of the gospel at Yarrow, married one of this reverend gentleman's 
daughters; and John Pringle, rector of Fogo, great-grandfather of 
the present Whytbank, married another. It was Christian Shaw, my 
1 Coriolanus, Act vi. Sc. 6, 

24 



370 JOURNAL [March 

grandmother, who possessed the manuscript respecting the murder of 
the Shaws by the Master of Sinclair/ She could not, according to 
the reckoning of that age, be a distant relation. Whytbank parted, 
agreeing to return to dinner to meet the bride and bridegroom. I 
had little time to write, for Colonel Russell, my cousin, called between 
one and two, and he also agreed to stay dinner ; so I had a walk 
of three hours with him in the plantations. At dinner we had Mr. 
and Mrs. Bruce, Mr. Scrope, Mrs. and Dr. Brewster, Whytbank, Rus- 
sell, and young Nicol Milne, who will be a pleasant lad if he had a 
little polish. I was glad of the society, as I had rather felt the besoin 
de parler^ which was perhaps one cause of my recent dumps. Scrope 
and Colonel Russell stayed all night ; the rest went home. 

March 22. — Had a packet from James — low about the novel ; but 
I had another from Cadell equally uppish. He proposes for three 
novels in eighteen months, which would be £12,600. Well, I like 
the bookseller's predictions better than the printer's. Neither are 
bad judges ; but James, who is the best, is not sensible of historical 
descriptions, and likes your novel style out and out. 

Cadell's letter also contained a state of cash matters, since much 
improved. I will arrange them a day or two hence. I wrote to-day 
and took a long walk. The thought more than once passed over me. 
Why go to London? I shall but throw away £150 or £200 which 
were better saved. Then on the other hand, it is such a gratification 
to see all the children that I must be tempted. If I were alone, I could 
scrub it, but there's no doing that with Anne. 

March 23. — I wrought regularly till one, and then took the wood 
and marked out to Tom the places I would have thinned, particularly 
at the Carlin's hole, which will require much thinning. I had a letter 
from Cadell stating that 3000 Tales of a Grandfather must go to 
press, bringing a return to me of £240, the price being £80 per thou- 
sand. This is snug enough, and will prettily cover my London jour- 
ney, and I really think ought in fairness to silence my prudential re- 
morse. With my usual delight in catching an apology for escaping 
the regular task of the day, I threw by the novel of St. Valentine's 
Eve and began to run through and correct the Grandfather'^ s Tales 
for the press. If I live to finish them, they will be a good thing for 
my younger children. If I work to the amount of £10,000 a year 
for the creditors, I think I may gain a few hundreds for my own fam- 
ily at by-hours. 

March 24. — Sent copy and proof to J. B.^ I continued my revi- 
sion of the Tales of a Grandfather till half -past one. Then went to 



» Ante, p. 300. printing that the Douglases after James ii. had 

3 It may have been with this packet that the dirked the Earl, trailed the royal safe-conduct 

following admonitory note was sent to Ballan- at the tail of a serving man, instead of the 

tyne: — " Dear James, — I return the sheets of tail of a starved Mare. — Yours truly, however, 

Tales with some waste oi Napoleon for ballast. W. S." So printed in first edition, vol. ii. p. 

Pray read like a lynx, for with all your devoted 129, but corrected in the subsequent editions to 

attention things will escape. Imagine your " a miserable cart jade. " 



1828.J JOURNAL 371 

Torwoo'dlee to wait on George Pringle and his bride. We did not 
see the young people, but the old Laird and Miss Pringle gave us a 
warm reception, and seemed very happy on the occasion. We had 
friends to dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Theobald, Charles Kerr and his wife, 
my old acquaintance Magdalen Hepburn, whose whole [kin] was known 
to me and mine. I have now seen the fifth generation of the family 
in Mrs. Kerr's little girl, who travels with them. Well — I partly wish 
we had been alone. Yet it is perhaps better. We made our day out 
tolerably well, having the advantage of Mr. Davidoff and his friend 
Mr. Collyer to assist us. 

March 2b. — Mr. and Mrs. Kerr left us, Mr. Davidoif and Mr. Coll- 
yer also. Mr. Davidoff showed himself a good deal affected. I hope 
well of this young nobleman, and trust the result will justify my ex- 
pectations, but it may be doubted if his happiness be well considered 
by those who send a young person, destined to spend his life under 
a despotic government, to receive the ideas and opinions of such a 
people as we are : 

" where ignorance is bliss, 
'Tis folly to be wise."' 

We drove as far as Yair with Mr. and Mrs. Theobald. The lady read 
after dinner — and read well. 

March 26. — The Theobalds left us, giving me time to work a lit- 
tle. A walk of two hours diversified my day. I received Cadell's 
scheme for the new edition. 1 fear the trustees will think Cadell's 
plan expensive in the execution. Yet he is right ; for, to ensure a 
return of speedy sale, the new edition should be both handsome and 
cheap. He proposes size a Royal 12 mo, with a capital engraving to 
each volume from a design by the best artists. This infers a mon- 
strous expense, but in the present humour of the public ensures the 
sale. The price will be 5s. per volume, and the whole set, 32 volumes, 
from Waverley to Woodstock included, will be £8. 

March 27. — This also was a day of labour, affording only my usual 
interval of a walk. Five or six sheets was the result. We now ap- 
propinque an end. My story has unhappily a divided interest ; there 
are three distinct strands of the rope, and they are not well twisted 
together. "Ah, Sirs, a foul fawt," as Captain Tommy says. 

March 28. — The days have little to distinguish each other, very 
little. The morning study, the noontide walk, all monotonous and 
inclined to be melancholy ; God help me ! But I have not had any 
nervous attack. Read Tales of an Antiquary,^ one of the chime of 
bells which I have some hand in setting a-ringing. He is really en- 
titled to the name of an antiquary ; but he has too much description 
in proportion to the action. There is a capital wardrobe of proper- 
ties, but the performers do not act up to their character. 

1 Gray's Ode on Eton. 2 By Richard Thomson, author of Chronicles 

0/ London Bridge, etc. He died in 1865, 



372 JOURNAL [March, 1828. 

March 29. — Finislied volume third this morning. I have let no 
grass grow beneath my heels this bout. 

Mr. Cadell with J. and A. Ballantyne came to dinner. Mr. and 
Mrs. George Pringle, new married, dined with us and old Torwood- 
lee. Sandy's music made the evening go sweetly down. 

March 30. — A long discourse with Cadell, canvassing his scheme. 
He proposes I should go on immediately with the new novel. This 
will furnish a fund from which may be supplied the advances neces- 
sary for the new work, w^hich are considerable, and may reach from 
£4000 to £8000 — the last sum quite improbable — before it makes re- 
turns. Thus we can face the expenditure necessary to set on foot our 
great work. I have written to recommend the plan to John Gibson. 
This theme renewed from time to time during the forenoon. Dr. 
Clarkson^ dined with us. We smoked and had whisky and water after. 

March 31. — The Ballantynes and Cadell left us in high spirits, 
expecting much from the new undertaking, and I believe they are 
not wrong. As for me, I became torpid after a great influx of morn- 
ing visitors. 

"I grew vapourish and odd, 

And would not do the least right thing, 
Neither for goddess nor for god — 

Nor paint nor jest nor laugh, nor sing." 

I was quite reluctant to write letters, or do anything whatsoever, and 
yet I should surely write to Sir Cuthbert Sharp and Surtees. AVe 
dined alone. I was main stupid, indeed, and much disposed to sleep, 
though my dinner was very moderate. 

1 Dr. Ebenezer Clarkson, a Surgeon of dis- Daughter, Sir Walter's neighbours on Tweed- 

tinguished merit at Selkirk and through life a side saw a true picture— a portrait from life of 

trusty friend and crony of the Sheriffs. — j.g.l. Scott's hard-riding and sagacious old friend to 

"In Mr. Gideon Gray, in The Surgeon's all the country dear. " — Xi/e, vol. ix. p. 181. 



APRIL 

April 1. — All Fools' day, the only Saint that keeps up some de- 
gree of credit in the world ; for fools we are with a vengeance. On 
this memorable festival we played the fool with great decorum at 
Colonel Ferguson's, going to visit them in a cold morning. In the 
evening I had a distressing letter from Mrs. MacBarnet, or some such 
name, the daughter of Captain Macpherson, smothered in a great snow 
storm. They are very angry at the Beview for telling a rawhead and 
bloody bones story about him. I have given the right version of the 
tale willingly, but this does not satisfy. I almost wish they would 
turn out a clansman to be free of the cumber. The vexation of hav- 
ing to do with ladies, who on such a point must be unreasonable, is 
very great. With a man it would be soon ended or mended. It 
really hurts my sleep. 

April 2. — I wrote the lady as civilly as I could, explaining why I 
made no further apology, which may do some good. Then a cursed 
morning of putting to rights, which drives me well-nigh mad. At 
two or three I must go to a funeral — a happy and interesting relief 
from my employment. It is a man I am sorry for, who married my 
old servant. Bell Ormiston. He was an excellent person in his way, 
and a capital mason — a great curler. 

April 3. — Set off at eight o'clock, and fought forward to Carlisle 
— a sad place in my domestic remembrances, since here I married my 
poor Charlotte. She is gone, and I am following faster, perhaps, than 
1 wot of. It is something to have lived and loved ; and our poor 
children are so hopeful and affectionate, that it chastens the sadness 
attending the thoughts of our separation. We slept at Carlisle. I 
have not forgiven them for destroying their quiet old walls, and 
building two lumpy things like mad-houses. The old gates had such 
a respectable appearance once, 

"When Scotsmen's heads did guard the wall." 

Come, I'll write down the whole stanza, which is all that was known 
to exist of David Hume's poetry, as it was written on a pane of glass 
in the inn : — 

" Here chicks in eggs for breakfast sprawl, 
Here godless boys God's glories squall, 
Here Scotsmen's heads do guard the wall, 
But Corby's walks atone for all." 



374 JOURNAL - [April 

The poetical works of David Hume, Esq., might, as book-makers know 
now, be driven out to a handsome quarto. Line 1st admits of a de- 
scant upon eggs roasted, boiled or poached ; 2d, a history of Carlisle 
Cathedral with some reasons why the choir there has been proverb- 
ially execrable; 3d, the whole history of l745 with minute memoirs 
of such as mounted guard on the Scotch gate. I remember the 
spikes the heads stood upon ; lastly, a description of Corby Castle 
with a plan, and the genealogy of the Howards. Gad, the book- 
sellers would give me £500 for it. I have a mind to print it for the 
Bannatynians. 

April 4. — In our stage to Penrith I introduced Anne to the an- 
cient Petreia, called Old Penrith, and also to the grave of Sir Ewain 
Csesarias,^ that knight with the puzzling name, which has got more 
indistinct. We breakfasted at Buchanan's Inn, Penrith, one of the 
best on the road, and a fine stanch fellow owned it. He refused 
passage to some of the delegates who traversed the country during 
the Radical row, and when the worthies threatened him with popular 
vengeance, answered gallantly that he had not lived so long by the 
Crown to desert it at a pinch. The Crown is the sign of his inn. 
Slept at Garstang, an indiiierent house. As a petty grievance, my 
ink-holder broke loose in the case, and spilt some of the ink on 
Anne's pelisse. Misfortunes seldom come single. *' 'Tis not alone 
the inky cloak, good daughter," but I forgot at Garstang my two 
breastpins ; one with Walter and Jane's hair, another a harp of pure 
Irish gold, the gift of the ladies of Llangollen.' 

April 5. — Breakfasted at Chorley, and slept at Leek. We were 
in the neighbourhood of some fine rock-scenery, but the day was un- 
favourable ; besides, I did not come from Scotland to seek rocks, I 
trow. 

April 6. — Easter Sunday. We breakfasted at Ashbourne and 
went from thence to Derby ; and set off from thence to Drycot Hall 
(five miles) to visit Hugh Scott. But honest Hugh was, like ourselves, 
on the ramble ; so we had nothing to do but to drive back to Derby, 
and from thence to Tarn worth, where we slept. 

April V. — We visited the Castle in the morning. It is inhabited 
by a brother-in-law of the proprietor; and who is the proprietor? 
" Why, Mr. Robbins," said the fat house-keeper. This was not a name 
quite according with the fine chivalrous old hall, in which there was 
no small quantity of armour, and odds and ends, which I would have 
been glad to possess. " Well, but madam, before Mr. Robbins bought 
the place, who was the proprietor ?" " Lord Charles Townsheud, 
sir." This would not do neither ; but a genealogy hanging above the 
chimney-piece informed me that the Ferrars were the ancient possess- 

» For an account of this monument see ^ Lady Eleanor Butler and the Hon. Miss 

Nicolson and Burns's History of Westmoreland Ponsonby. An amusing account of Sir Walter's 

and Cumberland, vol. ii. p. 410, and "Notabilia visit to them in 1825 is given by Mr. Lockhart 

of Penrith," by George Watson, C. and W. in the Zi/e, vol. viii. pp. 47-50. 
Transactions, Xo. xiv. 



1828.] JOURNAL 375 

ors of the mansion, which, indeed, the horseshoes in the shield over 
the Castle gate might have intimated. Tamworth is a fine old place, 
neglected, but, therefore, more like hoar antiquity. The keep is 
round. The apartments appear to have been modernised tempore 
Jac. I™\ There w^as a fine demipique saddle, said to have been that 
of James ii. The pommel rose, and finished off in the form of a 
swan's crest, capital for a bad horseman to hold on by. 

To show Anne what was well worth seeing, we visited Kenilworth. 
The relentless rain only allowed us a glimpse of this memorable ruin. 
Well, the last time I was here, in 1815,^ these trophies of time were 
quite neglected. Now they approach so much nearer the splendour 
of Thunder-ten-tronckh, as to have a door at least, if not windows. 
They are, in short, preserved an protected. So much for the novels. 
I observed decent children begging here, a thing uncommon in Eng- 
land : and I recollect the same unseemly practice formerly. 

We went to Warwick Castle. The neighbourhood of Leamington, 
a watering-place of some celebrity, has obliged the family to decline 
showing the castle after ten o'clock. I tried the virtue of an old 
acquaintance with Lord Warwick and wrote to him, he being in the 
Courthouse where the assizes were sitting. After some delay we 
were admitted, and I found my old friend Mrs. Hume, in the most 
perfect preservation, though, as she tells me, now eighty-eight. She 
went through her duty wonderfully, though now and then she com- 
plained of her memory. She has laid aside a mass of black plumes 
which she wore on her head, and which resembled the casque in the 
Castle of Otranto. Warwick Castle is still the noblest sight in Eng- 
land. Lord and Lady Warwick came home from the Court, and re- 
ceived us most kindly. We lunched with them, but declined fur- 
ther hospitality. When I was last here, and for many years before, 
the unfortunate circumstances of the late Lord W. threw an air of 
neglect about everything. I believe the fine collection of pictures 
would have been sold by distress, if Mrs. Hume, my friend, had 
not redeemed them at her own cost.'* I was pleased to see Lord 
Warwick show my old friend kindness and attention. We Visited 
the monuments of the Nevilles and Beauchamps, names which make 
the heart thrill. The monuments are highly preserved. We con- 
cluded the day at Stratford-upon-Avon. 

1 The visit to Kenilworth in 1815 is not no- The famous romance did not appear until six 

ticed in the Life^ but as Scott was in London years later, viz. in January, 1821, and in the au- 

for some weeks in the spring of that year he tumn of that year it is somewhat singular to 

may have gone there on his return journey. find that Scott and his friend Mr. Stewart Rose 

Mr. Charles Knight, writing in 1842, says that are at Stratford-on-Avon writing their names 

Mr. Bonnington, the venerable occupant of the on the wall of Shakespeare's birthplace — and 

Gate House, told him that he remembered the yet leaving Kenilworth unvisited.— Perhaps the 

visit and the visitor! It was "about twenty- reason was that Mr. Stewart Rose was not in 

five years ago"— and after examining some the secret of the authorship of the Novels, 

carving in the interior of the Gate House and ^ in the Annual Register for July, 1834, is the 

putting many suggestive questions, the mid- following notice: "Lately at Warwick Castle, 

die-aged active stranger slightly lame, and with aged ninety-three, Mrs. Home, for upwards of 

keen grey eye, passed through the court and seventy years a servant of the Warwick family, 

remained' among the ruins silent and alone for She had the privilege of showing the Castle, by 

about two hours, {Shakspeare, vol. 1. p. 89.) which she realised upwards of £30,000. 



3Y6 JOURNAL [April 

April 8. — We visited tlie tomb of the mighty wizard. It is in 
the bad taste of James the First's reign ; but what a magic does the 
locality possess ! There are stately monuments of forgotten families ; 
but when you have seen Shakspeare's what care we for the rest. All 
around is Shakspeare's exclusive property. I noticed the monument 
of his friend John a Combe immortalised as drawing forth a brief 
satirical notice of four lines. 

After breakfast I asked after Mrs. Ormsby, the old mad woman 
who was for some time tenant of Shakspeare's house, and conceived 
herself to be descended from the immortal poet. I learned she was 
dying. I thought to send her a sovereign ; but this extension of our 
tour has left me no more than will carry me through my journey, 
and I do not like to run short upon the road. So I take credit for 
my good intention, and — keep my sovereign — a cheap and not un- 
usual mode of giving charity. 

Learning from Washington Irving's description of Stratford that 
the hall of Sir Thomas Lucy, the justice who rendered Warwickshire 
too hot for Shakspeare, and drove him to London, was still extant, 
we went in quest of it. 

Charlcote is in high preservation, and inhabited by Mr. Lucy, de- 
scendant of the worshipful Sir Thomas. The Hall is about three 
hundred years old, an old brick structure with a gate-house in ad- 
vance. It was surrounded by venerable oaks, realising the imagery 
which Shakspeare loved so well to dwell upon ; rich verdant past- 
ures extend on every side, and numerous herds of deer were repos- 
ing in the shade. All showed that the Lucy family had retained 
their " land and beeves." While we w^ere surveying the antlered old 
hall, with its painted glass and family pictures, Mr. Lucy came to wel- 
come us in person, and to show the house, with the collection of paint- 
ings, which seems valuable, and to which he had made many valuable 
additions. 

He told me the park from which Shakspeare stole the buck was 
not that which surrounds Charlcote, but belonged to a mansion at 
some distance where Sir Thomas Lucy resided at the time of the 
trespass. The tradition went that they hid the buck in a barn, part 
of which was standing a few years ago, but now totally decayed. 
This park no longer belongs to the Lucys. The house bears no 
marks of decay, but seems the abode of ease and opulence. There 
were some fine old books, and I was told of many more which were 
not in order. How odd if a folio Shakspeare should be found 
amongst them ! Our early breakfast did not prevent my taking ad- 
vantage of an excellent repast offered by the kindness of Mr. and 
Mrs. Lucy, the last a lively Welshwoman. This visit gave me great 
pleasure ; it really brought Justice Shallow freshly before my eyes ; 
the luces in his arms " which do become an old coat well "^ were not 

» Merry Wives, Act i. Sc. 1. 



1828.] JOURNAL 377 

more plainly portrayed in his own armorials in the hall-window than 
was his person in my mind's eye. There is a picture shown as that 
of the old Sir Thomas, but Mr. Lucy conjectures it represents his son. 
There were three descents of the same name of Thomas. The party 
hath " the eye severe, and beard of formal cut," which fills up with 
judicial austerity the otherwise social physiognomy of the worshipful 
presence, with his " fair round belly with fat capon lined." ^ 

We resumed our journey. I may mention among the pictures at 
Charlcote one called a Roman Knight, which seemed to me very fine ; 
Teniers' marriage, in which, contrary to the painter's wont, only per- 
sons of distinction are represented, but much in the attitude in which 
he delights to present his boors ; two hawking pieces by A¥ouver- 
mans, very fine specimens, cum aliis. 

We took our way by Edgehill, and looked over the splendid rich- 
ness of the fine prospect from a sort of gazeeboo or modern antique 
tower, the place of a Mr. Miller. It is not easy to conceive a richer 
and more peaceful scene than that which stretched before us, and 
[one with which] strife, or the memory of strife, seems to have noth- 
ing to do. 

"But man records his own disgrace, 
And Edgehill lives in history." 

We got on to Buckingham, an ugly though I suppose an ancient 
town. Thence to Aylesbury through the wealth of England, in the 
scene of the old ballad — 

"Neither drunk nor sober, but neighbour to both, 
I met with a man in Aylesbury vale; 
I saw by his face that he was in good case, 
To speak no great harm of a pot of good ale." 

We slept at Aylesbury. The landlord, who seemed sensible, told 
me that the land round the town, being the richest in England, lets 
at £3, or £3, 10s. and some so high as £4 per acre. But the poor- 
rates are 13s. to the pound. Now, my Whitehaugh at Huntly Burn 
yielded at last set £4 per acre. 

April 9, [^London]. — We got to town about mid-day, and found 
Sophia, Lockhart, and the babies quite well — delighted with their 
companion Charles, and he enchanted with his occupation in the 
Foreign Office. I looked into my cash and found £53 had dimin- 
ished on the journey down to about £3. In former days a journey 
to London cost about £30 or thirty guineas. It may now cost one- 
fourth more. But I own I like to pay postilions and waiters rather 
more liberally than perhaps is right. I hate grumbling and sour 
faces ; and the whole saving will not exceed a guinea or two for be- 
ing cursed and damned from Dan to Beersheba. We had a joyful 
meeting, I promise you.' 

» As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 7. in London. His eldest son's regiment was sta- 

» Sir Walter remained at this time six weeks tioned at Hampton Court; his second son had 



378 JOURNAL [April 

April 10. — I spent th6 morning in bringing up my journal; in- 
terrupted by two of these most sedulous visitants who had objects of 
their own to serve, and smelled out my arrival as the raven scents 
carrion — a vile comparison, though what better is an old fellow, 
mauled with rheumatism and other deplorables ? Went out at two 
and saw Miss Dumergue and other old friends ; Sotheby in particu- 
lar, less changed than any one I have seen. Looked in at Murray's 
and renewed old habits. This great city seems almost a waste to 
me, so many of my friends are gone ; Walter and Jane coming up, 
the whole family dined together, and were very happy. The chil- 
dren joined in our festivity. My name-son, a bright and blue-eyed 
rogue, with flaxen hair, screams and laughs like an April morning ; 
and the baby is that species of dough which is called a fine baby. 
I care not for children till they care a little for me. 

April 11. — Made calls, walked myself tired; saw Rogers, Sharp, 
Sotheby, aild other old friends. 

April 12. — Dinner at home; a little party of SOphia's in the 
evening. Sharp told me that one evening being at Sheridan's house 
with a large party, Tom S. came to him as the night drew late, and 
said m a whisper, " I advise you to secure a wax-light to go to bed 
with," shewing him at the same time a morsel which he had stolen 
from a sconce. Sharp followed his advice, and had reason to be 
thankful for the hint. Tired and sleepy, I make a bad night watcher. 

April 1 3. — Amused myself by converting the Tale of the Mysteri- 
ous Mirror into Aunt Margarefs Mirror, designed for Heath's what- 
dye-call-it. Cadell will not like this, but I cannot afford to have my 
goods thrown back upon my hands. The tale is a good one, and is 
said actually to have happened to Lady Primrose, my great-grand- 
mother having attended her sister on the occasion. Dined with 
Miss Dumergue. My proofs from Edinburgh reached to-day and 
occupied me all the morning. 

April 14. — Laboured at proofs and got them sent off, per Mr. 
Freeling's cover. So there's an end of the Chronicles.^ James re- 
joices in the conclusion, where there is battle and homicide of all 
kinds. Always politic to keep a trot for the avenue, like the Lish 
postilions. J. B. always calls to the boys to flog before the carriage 
gets out of the inn-yard. How we have driven the stage I know not 
and care not — except with a view to extricating my difficulties. I 
have lost no time in beginning the second series of Grandfather'' s 
Tales, being determined to write as much as I can even here, and de* 
serve by industry the soft pillow I sleep on for the moment. 

recently taken his desk at the Foreign OfiBce, gate. Second Series, by the Author of WaverUy, 

and was living at his sister's in Regent's Park. etc., " sic itdr ad astra " Motto of Canongate 

He had thus looked forward to a happy meet- Arms, in three volumes. (St. VaUntine^s Day; 

ing with all his family— but he encountered or The Fair Maid of Perth.) Edinburgh : 

scenes of sickness and distress.— i/t/e, vol. ix. Printed for Cadell and Co., Edinburgh, and 

pp. 22&-7. Simpkin and Marshall, London, 1828 ; (at the 

1 This book was published early in April un- end) Edinburgh : Printed by Ballantyne and 

der the following title: Chronicles of the Canon- Co. 



1828.] JOURNAL 3V9 

There is a good scene supposed to have happened between Sam 
Rogers and a lady of fashion — the reporter, Lord Dudley. Sam en- 
ters, takes a stool, creeps close to the lady's side, who asks his opinion 
of the last new poem or novel. In a pathetic voice the spectre re- 
plies — " My opinion ? I like it very much — but the world don't like 
it ; but, indeed, I begin to think the world wrong in everything, ex- 
cept with regard to you''' Now, Rogers either must have said this 
somewhere, or he has it yet to say. We dined at Lord Melville's. 

April 15. — Got the lamentable news that Terry is totally bank- 
rupt. This is a most unexpected blow, though his carelessness about 
money matters was very great. God help the poor fellow ! he has 
been ill-advised to go abroad, but now returns to stand the storm — 
old debts, it seems, with principal and interest accumulated, and all 
the items which load a falling man. And wife such a good and kind 
creature, and children. Alack ! alack ! I sought out his solicitor. 
There are £7000 or more to pay, and the only fund his share in the 
Adelphi Theatre, worth £5000 and upwards, and then so fine a chance 
of independence lost. That comes of not being explicit with his af- 
fairs. The theatre was a most flourishing concern. I looked at the 
books, and since have seen Yates. The ruin is inevitable, but I think 
they will not keep him in prison, but let him earn his bread by his 
very considerable talents. I shall lose the whole or part of £500 
which I lent him, but that is the least of my concern. I hope the 
theatre is quite good for guaranteeing certain payments in 1829 and 
1830. I judge they are in no danger. 

I should have gone to the Club to-day, but Sir James Mackintosh 
had mistaken the day. I was glad of it, so stayed at home. 

It is written that nothing shall flourish under my shadow — the 
Ballantynes, Terry, Nelson, Weber, all came to distress. Nature has 
written on my brow, " Your shade shall be broad, but there shall be 
no protection derived from it to aught you favour." 

Sat and smoked and grumbled with Lockhart. 

April 1 6. — We dined at Dr. Young's ; saw Captain Parry, a hand- 
some and pleasant man. In the evening at Mr. Cunliffe's, where I met 
sundry old friends — grown older. 

April 17. — Made up my "Gurnal," which had fallen something 
behind. In this phantasmagorial place the objects of the day come 
and depart like shadows.^ Made calls. Gave [C. K.J Sharpe's me- 

1 Among the "objects that came and de- into his own hand," he gives an extract from 

parted like shadows" in this phantasmagoria Goethe's letter containing a criticism on Na- 

of London life was a deeply interesting letter poleon, with the apology that "it is seldom 

from Thomas Carlyle, and but for the fact that such a writer obtains such a critic," and in 

it bears Sir Walter's London address, and the conclusion he adds, "Being in this curious 

post-mark of this day, one could not imagine fashion appointed, as it were, ambassador be- 

he had ever seen it, as it remained unacknowl- tween two kings of poetry, I would willingly 

edged and unnoticed in either Journal or Cor- discharge my mission with the solemnity that 

respondence. beseems such a business ; and naturally it must 

It is dated 13th April, 1828 ; and one of the flatter my vanity and love of the marvellous to 

latest letters he indited from "21 Comely Bank, think that by means of a foreigner whom I 

Edinburgh." After advising Scott that " Goethe have never seen, I might soon have access to 

has sent two medals which he is to deliver my native sovereign, whom I have so often 



380 JOURNAL [April 

morial to Lord Leveson Gower. Went to Murray's, where I met a 
Mr. Jacob, a great economist. He is proposing a mode of support- 
ing the poor, by compelling them to labour by military force, and un- 
der a species of military discipline. I see no objection to it, only it 
will make a rebellion to a certainty ; and the tribes of Jacob will cer- 
tainly cut Jacob's throat.^ 

Canning's conversion from popular opinions was strangely brought 
round. While he was studying at the Temple, and rather entertain- 
ing revolutionary opinions, G-odwin sent to say that he was coming to 
breakfast with him, to speak on a subject of the highest importance. 
Canning knew little of him, but received his visit, and learned to his 
astonishment, that in expectation of a new order of things, the Eng- 
lish Jacobins desired to place him. Canning, at the head of their ex- 
pected revolution. He was much struck, and asked time to think 
what course he should take — and, having thought the matter over, 
he went to Mr. Pitt and made the Anti-Jacobin confession of faith, 

in which he persevered until . Canning himself mentioned 

this to Sir W. Knighton, upon occasion of giving a place in the 
Charter-house, of some ten pounds a year, to Godwin's brother. He 
could scarce do less for one who had ofiered him the dictator's curule 
chair. 

Dined with Rogers with all my own family, and met Sharp, Lord 
John Russell, Jekyll, and others. The conversation flagged as usual, 
and jokes were fired like minute guns, producing an effect not much 
less melancholy, — a wit should always have an atmosphere congenial 
to him, otherwise he will not shine. Went to Lady Davy's, where I 
saw the kind face, and heard the no less friendly greeting, of Lady 
Selkirk,^ who introduced all her children to me. 

April 1 8. — Breakfasted with Joanna Baillie, and found that gifted 
person extremely well, and in the display of all her native knowledge 
of character and benevolence. She looks more aged, however. I 
would give as much to have a capital picture of her as for any por- 
trait in the world. She gave me a manuscript play to read upon 
Witchcraft.' Dined with the Dean of Chester, Dr. Phillpotts.* 

" Where all above us was a solemn row 
Of priests and deacons, so were all below,"* 

seen in public, and so often wished that I had cottagers; a scheme which, under the superin- 
claim to see and know in private and near at tendance of Lord Braybrooke and other noble- 
hand. . . . Meanwhile, I abide your further or- men and gentlemen in various districts of Eng- 
ders in this matter, and so with all the regard land, appears to have been attended with most 
which belongs to one to whom I in common beneficent results." — Life, vol. ix. p. 229. Mr. 
with other millions owe so much, I have the Jacob died in 1852 aged eighty-eight, 
honour to be, sir, most respectfully, your serv- 2 The widow of his old school - fellow, the 
ant.— T. C." Hon. Thomas Douglas, afterwards Earl of Sel- 

1 William Jacob, author of Travels in Spain kirk.— See Life vol. i. p. 77, and 208 n. 

in 1810-11, and several works on Political 3 279. Afterwards included in her 

Sf "'""^th/Znr^rnS-^ SuJf hvX Poetical and Dramatic Works, Lond. 1851. 

cernmg the Poor Colonies mstituted by the , ^ „ t^. .,, x . j -r,- 1. 

KingoftheNetherlands, which had marked in- * Dr. Henry PhiUpotts, consecrated Bishop 

fluence in promoting the scheme of granting O' Exeter in 1830. 

small allotments of land on easy terms to our s Crabbe's Tale of the Dumb Orators— 3. G. l. 



1828.] JOURNAL 381 

There were the amiable Bishop of London (Howley*), Coplestone, 
whom I remember a iSrst man at Oxford, now Bishop of Llandaff, the 
Dean of St. Paul's, and other dignitaries of whom I knew less. It 
was a very pleasant day — the wigs against the wits for a guinea in 
point of conversation. Anne looked queer, and much disposed to 
laugh at finding herself placed betwixt two prelates [in black petti- 
coats]. 

April 19. — Breakfasted with Sir George Philips. Had his re- 
ceipt against the blossoms 'being injured by frost. It consists in 
watering them plentifully before sunrise. This is like the mode of 
thawing beef. We had a pleasant morning, much the better that 
Morritt was with us. He has agreed to go to Hampton Court with 
us to-morrow. 

Mr. Reynolds called on me about the drawing of the Laird's 
Jock ; he is assiduous and attentive, but a little forward. Poor Gil- 
lies also called. Both asked me to dinner, but I refused. I do not 
incline to make what is called literary acquaintances; and as for 
poor G., it is wild to talk about his giving dinner to others, when he 
can hardly get credit for his own. 

Dined with Sir Robert Henry Inglis, and met Sir Thomas Acland, 
my old and kind friend. I was happy to see him. He may be consid- 
ered now as the head of the religious party in the House of Commons, 
a powerful body which Wilberforce long commanded. It is a difficult 
situation ; for the adaptation of religious motives to earthly policy is 
apt — among the infinite delusions of the human heart — to be a snare. 
But I could confide much in Sir T. Acland's honour and integrity. 
Bishop Blomfield [of Chester],'' one of the most learned prelates of 
the church, also dined. 

Coming home, an Irish coachman drove us into a cul de sac, near 
Battersea Bridge. We were obliged to get out in the rain. The 
people admitted us into their houses, where they were having their 
bit of supper, assisted with lights, etc., and, to the honour of London, 
neither asked nor expected gratification. 

April 20. — We went to Walter's quarters in a body, and saw 
Hampton Court, with which I was more struck than when I saw it 
for the first time, about 1806. The pictures are not very excellent, 
but they are curious, which is as interesting, except to connoisseurs. 
Two 1 particularly remarked, of James i. and Charles i. eating in pub- 
lic. The old part of the palace, built by Wolsey, is extremely fine. 
Two handsome halls are still preserved : one, the ceiling of which is 
garnished, at the crossing and combining of the arches, with the re- 
curring heads of Henry viii. and Anne Boleyn — great stinginess in 
Henry, for these ornaments must have been put up after Wolsey's 
fall. He could surely afford a diversity of this species of ornament 



1 Dr. Howley, raised in 1828 to the Archbiah- » Translated to the see of London in 1828, 
opric of Canterbury. —J. g. i.. where he remained until his death in 1859, 



382 JOURNAL [April 

if any man could. Formerly, when the palace was completely a fish- 
ing-house, it extended into, or rather over, the river. We had a good 
dinner from Walter, and wended merrily home. 

April 21. — Dining is the principal act of the day in London. 
We took ours at Kensington with Croker. There were Theodore 
Hook and other witty men. He looks unhealthy and bloated. 
There was something, I know not what, awanting to the cheerfulness 
of the party. And 

"Silence like a heavy cloud, 
O'er all the warriors hung." 

If the general report of Croker's retiring be accurate, it may account 
for this. 

Apiil 22. — Sophia left this to take down poor Johnnie to Brigh- 
ton. I fear — I fear — but we must hope the best. Anne went with 
her sister. 

Lockhart and I dined with Sotheby, where we met a large dining 
party, the orator of which was that extraordinary man Coleridge. 
After eating a hearty dinner, during which he spoke not a word, he 
began a most learned harangue on the Samothracian Mysteries, which 
he considered as affording the germ of all tales about fairies past, 
present, and to come. He then diverged to Homer, whose Iliad he 
considered as a collection of poems by different authors, at different 
times during a century. There was, he said, the individuality of an 
age, but not of a country. Morritt, a zealous worshipper of the old 
bard, was incensed at a system which would turn him into a polythe- 
ist, gave battle with keenness, and was joined by Sotheby, our host. 
Mr. Coleridge behaved with the utmost complaisance and temper, 
but relaxed not from his exertions. " Zounds ! I was never so be- 
thumped with words." Morritt's impatience must have cost him an 
extra sixpence worth of snuff. ^ 

We went to Lady Davy's in the evening, where there was a 
fashionable party. 

April 23. — Dined at Lady Davy's with Lord and Lady Lans- 

i Mr. Lockhart gives an account of another that he was stifled, flung his glass through the 
dinner party at which Coleridge distinguished window. Coleridge rose with the aspect of a 
himself: — "The first time I ever witnessed it benignant patriarch and demolished another 
[Hook's improvisation] was at a gay young pane— the example was followed generally — 
bachelor's villa near Highgate, when the other the window was a sieve in an instant — the 
Hon was one of a very different breed, Mr Coler- kind host was furthest from the mark, and his 
idge. Much claret had been shed before the goblet made havoc of the chandelier. The 
.^ncien^J/arincr proclaimed that he could swal- roar of laughter was drowned in Theodore's 
low no more of anything, unless it were punch. resumption of the song — and window and 
The materials were forthwith produced; the chandelier and the peculiar shot of each indi- 
bowl was planted before the poet, and as he pro- vidual destroyer had apt, in many cases ex- 
ceeded in his concoction, Hook, unbidden, took quisitely witty, commemoration. In walking 

his place at the piano. He burst into a bac- home with Mr. Coleridge, he entertained 

chanal of egregious luxury, every line of which and me with a most excellent lecture on the 
had reference to the author of the Lay Ser- distinction between talent and genius, and de- 
mons and the Aids to Reflection. The room clared that Hook was as true a genius as Dante 
was becoming excessively hot: the first speci- —that was his example. " — T/teodore Hook, 
men of the new compound was handed to Hook, Lond. 1853, p. 23-4. 
who paused to quaflf it, and then, exclaiming 



1828.] JOURNAL a83 

downe, and several other fashionable folks. My keys were sent to 
Bramah's with my desk, so I have not had the means of putting mat- 
ters down regularly for several days ; but who cares for the whipp'd 
cream of London society ? Our poor little Johnnie is extremely ill. 
My fears have been uniform for this engaging child. We are in 
God's hands. But the comfortable and happy object of my journey 
is ended, — Seged, Emperor of Ethiopia,^ was right after all. 

April 24.— Spent the day in rectifying a road bill which drew 
a turnpike road through all the Darnickers' cottages, and a good 
field of my own. I got it put to rights. I was in some apprehen- 
sion of being obliged to address the Committee. I did not fear them, 
for I suppose they are no wiser or better in their capacity of legisla- 
tors than I find them every day at dinner. But I feared for my repu- 
tation. They would have expected something better than the occa- 
sion demanded, or the individual could produce, and there would have 
been a failure. 

April 25. — Threatened to be carried down to vote at the election 
of a Collector of the Cess.'^ Resolved if I did go to carry my son 
with me, which would give me a double vote. Had some disagreea- 
ble correspondence about this with Lord Minto and the Sheriff. 

We had one or two persons at home in great wretchedness to 
dinner. Lockhart's looks showed the misery he felt. I was not able 
to make any fight, and the evening went off as heavily as any I ever 
spent in the course of my life. 

Finished my Turnpike business by getting the exceptionable 
clauses omitted, which would be good news to Darnick. Put all the 
Mirror in proof and corrected it. This is the contribution (part of 
it) to Mr. Reynolds' and Heath's Keepsake. We dined at Richard- 
son's with the two chief Barons of England' and Scotland.* Odd 
enough, the one being a Scotsman and the other an Englishman. 
Far the pleasantest day we have had ; I suppose I am partial, but I 
think the lawyers beat the bishops, and the bishops beat the wits. 

April 26 — This morning I went to meet a remarkable man, Mr. 
Boyd of the house of Boyd, Benfield & Co., which broke for a very 
large sum at the beginning of the war. Benfield went to the devil, 
I believe. Boyd, a man of a very different stamp, went over to Paris 
to look after some large claims which his house had over the French 
Government. They were such as it seems they could not disavow, 
however they might be disposed to do so. But they used every ef- 
fort, by foul means and fair, to induce Mr. Boyd to depart. He was 
reduced to poverty ; he was thrown into prison ; and the most flat- 
tering prospects were, on the other hand, held out to him if he would 
compromise his claims. His answer was uniform. It was the prop- 

1 Johnson's Rambler. Baron 1824 ; died in London in his eighty- 

2 The County Land Tax. eighth year, 1842. 

3 The Right Hon. Sir W. Alexander of Air- 

drie, .called to the English Bar 1782, Chief * Sir Samuel Shepherd. 



384 JOURNAL [April 

erty, he said, of his creditors, and he would die ere he resigned it. 
His distresses were so great that a subscription was made among his 
Scottish friends, to which I was a contributor, through the request 
of poor Will Erskine. After the peace of Paris the money was re- 
stored, and, faithful to the last, Boyd laid the whole at his creditors' 
disposal ; stating, at the same time, that he was penniless unless they 
consented to allow him a moderate sum in name of percentage, in 
consideration of twenty years of danger, poverty, and [exile], all of 
which evils he might have escaped by surrendering their right to the 
money. Will it be believed that a muck-worm w^as base enough to 
refuse his consent to this deduction, alleging he had promised to his 
father, on his death-bed, never to compromise this debt. The wretch, 
however, was overpowered by the execrations of all around him, and 
concurred, with others, in setting apart for Mr. Boyd a sum of £40,000 
or £50,000 out of half a million of money.^ This is a man to whom 
statues should be erected, and pilgrims should go to see him. He is 
good-looking, but old and infirm. Bright dark eyes and eyebrows 
contrast with his snowy hair, and all his features mark vigour of 
principle and resolution. Mr. Morritt dined with us, and we did as 
well as in the circumstances could be expected. 

Released from the alarm of being summoned down to the election 
by a civil letter from Lord Minto. I am glad both of the relief and 
of the manner. I hate civil war amongst neighbours. 

April 27. — Breakfasted this day with Charles Dumergue on a pou- 
let a la tartare, and saw all his family, specially my godson. Called 
on Lady Stafford and others, and dined at Croker's in the Admiralty, 
with the Duke of Wellington, Huskisson, Wilmot Horton, and others, 
outs and ins. No politics of course, and every man disguising serious 
thoughts with a light brow. The Duke alone seemed open, though not 
letting out a word. He is one of the few whose lips are worth watch- 
ing. I heard him say to-day that the best troops would run now and 
then. He thought nothing of men running, he said, provided they 
came back again. In war he had always his reserves. Poor Terry 
was here when I returned. He seems to see his matters in a delusive 
light. 

April 28. — An attack this day or yesterday from poor Gillies, bor- 
ing me hard to apply to Menzies of Pitfoddels to entreat him to lend 
him money. I could not get him to understand that I was decided- 
ly averse to write to another gentleman, with whom I was hardly ac- 
quainted, to do that which I would not do myself. Tom CampbelP 
is in miserable distress — his son insane — his wife on the point of be- 
coming so. / nunc, et versus tecum meditare canoros.^ 

We, i.e. Charles and I, dined at Sir Francis Freeling's with Colo- 

1 Walter Boyd at this time was M.P. for " Campbell died at Boulogne in 1844, aged 

Lymington; he had been a banker in Paris sixty-seven; he was buried in Westminster, 

and in London; was the author of several well- next Southey. 

known tracts on finance, and died in 1837. ^ nor. Epp. ii. 2, 76, 



1828.] JOURNAL 385 

nel Harrison of the Board of Green Cloth, Dr. [Maltby] of Lincoln's 
Inn, and other pleasant people. Doctor Dibdin too, and Utterson, 
all old Roxburghe men. Pleasant party, were it not for a bad cold, 
which makes me bark like a dog. 

Ap7'il 29. — Anne and Lockhart are off with the children this morn- 
ing at seven, and Charles and I left behind ; and this is the promised 
meeting of my household ! I went to Dr. Gilly's to-day to breakfast. 
Met Sir Thomas Acland, who is the youngest man of his age I ever 
saw. I was so much annoyed with cough, that, on returning, I took 
to my bed and had a siesta, to my considerable refreshment. Dr. 
Fergusson called, and advised caution in eating and drinking, which 
I will attend to. 

Dined accordingly. Duke of Sussex had cold and did not come. 
A Mr. or Dr. Pettigrew made me speeches on his account, and invited 
me to see his Royal Highness's library, which I am told is a fine one„ 
Sir Peter Laurie, late Sheriff, and in nomination to be Lord Mayor, 
bored me close, and asked more questions than would have been 
thought warrantable at the west end of the town. 

April 30. — We had Mr. Adolphus and his father, the celebrated 
lawyer, to breakfast, and I was greatly delighted with the informa- 
tion of the latter. A barrister of extended practice, if he has any 
talents at all, is the best companion in the world.* 

Dined with Lord Alvanley and a fashionable party, Lord Fitzroy 
Somerset, Marquis and Marchioness of Worcester, etc. Lord Alvan- 
ley's wit made the party very pleasant, as well as the kind reception 
of my friends the Misses Arden. 

1 The elder Mr. Adolphus distinguished himself early in life by his History of the Reign of 
George III.—j. g. l. 

25 



MAT 

May 1. — Breakfasted with Lord and Lady Leveson Gower/ and 
enjoyed the splendid treat of hearing Mrs. Arkwright sing her own 
music,'^ which is of the highest order — no forced vagaries of the 
voice, no caprices of tone, but all telling upon and increasing the feel- 
ing the words require. This is " roarrying music to immortal verse." ' 
Most people place them on separate maintenance. 

I met the Roxburghe Club, and settled to dine with them on 
15th curt. Lord Spencer in the chair. We voted Lord Clive* a 
member. 

May 2. — I breakfasted with a Mr. Bell, Great Ormond Street, a 
lawyer, and narrowly escaped Mr. Irving, the celebrated preacher. 
The two ladies of the house seemed devoted to his opinions, and 
quoted him at every word. Mr. Bell himself made some apologies 
ior the Millennium. He is a smart little antiquary, who thinks he 
ought to have been a man of letters, and that his genius has been 
mis-directed in turning towards the law. I endeavoured to combat 
this idea, which his handsome house and fine family should have 
checked. Compare his dwelling, his comforts, with poor Tom Camp- 
bell's ! 

I dined with the Literary Society ; rather heavy work, though 
some excellent men were there. I saw, for the first time, Archdeacon 
Nares, long conductor of the British Critic, a gentlemanlike and pleas- 
ing man. Sir Henry Robert Inglis presided. 

May 3. — Breakfasted at my old friend Gaily Knight's, with whom, 
in former days, I used to make little parties to see poor Monk Lewis. 
After breakfast I drove to Lee and Kennedy's, and commissioned 
seeds and flowers for about £10, including some specimens of the 
Corsican and other pines. Their collection is very splendid, but 
wants, I think, the neatness that I would have expected in the first 
nursery-garden in or near London. The essentials were admirably 
cared for. I saw one specimen of the Norfolk Island pine, the only 

1 See ante, p. 9. Lady Francis Leveson the lady, and whispered, as she closed, ' Capi- 
Gower was the eldest daughter of Charles Grev- tal words— whose are they? Byron's, I sup- 
ille. pose, but I don't remember them.' He was 

2 Mr. Lockhart writes : — " Among other astonished when I told him they were his own 
songs Mrs. Arkwright delighted Sir Walter in The Pirate. He seemed pleased at the mo- 
with her own set of— ment. but said next minute, 'You have dis- 

' Farewell ! farewell ! the voice tou hear Pressed mc-if memory goes, all is up with rne, 

Has left its last soft tone with yon ; for that was always my strong point.'"— Z/ife, 

Its next must join the seaward cheer, vol. ix. p. 236. 

And shout among 4he shouting crew,' etc. 3 JUilton'S U Allegro, ver. 137, 294. 

He was sitting by me, at some distance from * Afterwards second Earl Powis. 



May, 1828.] JOURNAL 387 

one, young Lee said, which has been raised from all the seed that 
was sent home. It is not treated comformably to its dignity, for they 
cut the top off every year to prevent its growing out at the top of 
the conservatory. Sure it were worth while to raise the house 
alongst with the plant. 

Looked in at Murray's — wrote some letters, etc., and walked home 
with the Dean of Chester, who saw me to my own door. I had but 
a few minutes to dress, and go to the Royal Academy, to which I am 
attached in capacity of Professor of Antiquities. I was too late to 
see the paintings, but in perfect time to sit half-an-hour waiting for 
dinner, as the President, Sir Thomas Lawrence, expected a prince of 
the blood. He came not, but there were enough of grandees be- 
sides. Sir Thomas Lawrence did the honours very well, and com- 
pliments flew about like sugar-plums at an Italian carnival. I had 
my share, and pleaded the immunities of a sinecurist for declining 
to answer. 

After tbe dinner I went to Mrs. Scott of Harden, to see and be 
seen by her nieces, the Herbert ladies. I don't know how their part 
of the entertainment turned out, but I saw two or three pretty girls. 

May 4. — I breakfasted this morning with Sir Coutts Trotter, and 
had some Scottish talk. Visited Cooper, who kindly undertook to 
make my inquiries in Lyons. ^ I was at home afterwards for three 
hours, but too much tired to do the least right thing. The distances 
in London are so great that no exertions, excepting those which a bird 
might make, can contend with them. You return weary and exhaust- 
ed, fitter for a siesta than anything else. In the evening I dined with 
Mr. Peel, a great Cabinet affair, and too dignified to be very amusing, 
though the landlord and the pretty landlady did all to make us easy. 

May 5. — Breakfasted with Haydon, and sat for my head. I hope 
this artist is on his legs again. The King has given him a lift by 
buying his clever picture of the election in the Fleet prison, to which 
he is adding a second part, representing the chairing of the member 
at the moment it was interrupted by the entry of the guards. Hay- 
don was once a great admirer and companion of the champions of 
the Cockney school, and is now disposed to renounce them and their 
opinions. To this kind of conversation I did not give much way. A 
painter should have nothing to do with politics. He is certainly a 
clever fellow, but somewhat too enthusiastic, which distress seems to 
have cured in some degree. His wife, a pretty woman, looked happy 
to see me, and that is something. Yet it was very little I could do to 
help them.'^ 

Dined at Lord Batburst's, in company witb the Duke. There are 
better accounts of Johnnie. But, alas ! 

1 Regarding the Chancery business, see in- don. The imprisonment from which the sub- 
fi-a, p. 399 n. scription released the artist produced, I need 

scarcely say, the picture mentioned in the Di- 

2 Sir Walter had shortly before been one of ary.— j. g. l. Haydon died in June, 1846. See 
the contributors to a subscription for Mr. Hay- his Life, 3 vols., 1853, edited by Tom Taylor. 



388 JOURNAL [May 

May 7. — Breakfasted witli Lord Francis Gower, and again enjoyed 
the great pleasure of meeting Mrs. Arkwright, and hearing her sing. 
She is, I understand, quite a heaven-born genius, having scarce skill 
enough in music to write down the tunes she composes. I can easily 
believe this. There is a pedantry among great musicians that de- 
prives their performances of much that is graceful and beautiful. It 
is the same in the other fine arts, where fashion always prefers cant 
and slang to nature and simplicity. 

Dined at Mr. Watson Taylor's, where plate, etc., shone in great 
and somewhat ostentatious quantity. C[roker] was there, and very 
decisive and overbearing to a great degree. Strange so clever a fel- 
low should let his wit outrun his judgment ! * In general, the Eng- 
lish understand conversation well. There is that ready deference for 
the claims of every one who wishes to speak time about, and it is 
seldom now-a-days that " a la stoccata " carries it away thus.^ 

I should have gone to the Duchess of Northumberland's to hear 
music to-night, but I felt completely fagged, and betook myself home 
to bed. 

I learned a curious thing from Emily, Lady Londonderry, namely, 
that in feeding all animals with your hand, you should never wear a 
glove, which always affronts them. It is good authority for this pe- 
culiarity. 

May 8. — Breakfasted at Somerset House with Davies Gilbert, the 
new preses of the Royal Society. Tea, coffee, and bread and butter, 
which is poor work. Certainly a slice of ham, a plate of shrimps, 
some broiled fish, or a mutton chop, would have been becoming so 
learned a body. I was most kindly received, however, by Dr. D. Gil- 
bert, and a number of the members. I saw Sir John Sievwright — a 
singular personage ; he told me his uniform plan was to support Min- 
isters, but he always found himself voting in Opposition. I told him 
his deference to Ministers was like that of the Frenchman to the ene- 
my, who, being at his mercy, asked for his life :^ — "Anything in my 
power excepting that, sir," said Monsieur. Sir John has made prog- 
ress in teaching animals without severity or beating. I should have 
liked to have heard him on this topic. 

Called at Northumberland House and saw the Duke. According 
to his report I lost much by not hearing the two rival nightingales, 
Sontag and Pasta, last night, but I care not for it. 

Met Sir W. K[nighton], returned from the Continent. He gives 
me to understand I will be commanded for Sunday. Sir W. K. asked 
me to sit for him to Northcote, and to meet him there at one to-mor 
row. I cannot refuse this, but it is a great bore.' 

1 The Duke of Wellington, in after years, said 3 Sir W. Knighton, as a Devonshire raan, 
to Lord Mahon, "He had observed on several naturally wished to have the portrait painted 
occasions that Sir Walter was talked down by by Northcote, who was a brother Devonian. 
Croker and Bankes! who forgot that we might Cunningham said of this picture that the con- 
have them every day. "— ^Vo/cs, p. 100. ception was good, and reality given by the in- 

2 Romeo and Juliet, Act in. Sc. 1. troduction of the painter, palette in hand, put- 



1828.] JOURNAL 389 

Dined witli Mrs. Alexander of Balloclimyle, Lord and Lady Meath, 
who were kind to us in Ireland, and a Scottish party, — pleasant, from 
hearing the broad accents and honest thoughts of my native land. A 
large party in the evening. A gentleman came up to me and asked 
" if I had seen the * Casket,' a curious work, the most beautiful, the 
most highly ornamented — and then the editor or editress- — a female 
so interesting, — might he ask a very great favour," and out he pulled 
a piece of this pic-nic. I was really angry, and said for a subscrip- 
tion he might command me — for a contribution no ; that I had given 
to a great many of these things last year, and finding the labour oc- 
cupied some considerable portion of my time, I had done a consider- 
able article for a single collection this year, taking a valuable consid- 
eration for it, and engaged not to support any other. This may be 
misrepresented, but I care not. Suppose this patron of the Muses 
gives five guineas to his distressed lady, he will think he does a great 
deal, yet takes fifty from me with the calmest air in the world, for the 
communication is worth that if it be worth anything. There is no 
equality in the proposal. 

I saw to-day at Northumberland House, Bridge the jeweller, hav- 
ing and holding a George, richly ornamented with diamonds, being 
that which Queen Anne gave to the Duke of Marlborough, which his 
present representative pawned or sold, and which the present king 
bought and presented to the Duke of Wellington. His Grace 
seemed to think this interesting jewel was one of two which had 
been preserved since the first institution of that order. That, 
from the form and taste, I greatly doubt. Mr. Bridge put it again 
into his coat pocket, and walked through the street with £10,000 in 
his pocket. I wonder he is not hustled and robbed. I have some- 
times envied rich citizens, but it was a mean and erroneous feeling. 
This man, who, I suppose, must be as rich as a Jew, had a shabby look 
in the Duke's presence, and seemed just a better sort of pedlar. Bet- 
ter be a poor gentleman after all. 

May 9. — Grounds of Foote's farce of the Cozeners. Lady . 

A certain Mrs. Phipps audaciously set up in a fashionable quarter of 
the town as a person through whose influence, properly propitiated, 
favours and situations of importance might certainly be obtained — 
always for a consideration. She cheated many people, and main- 
tained the trick for many months. One trick was to get the equipage 
of Lord North, and other persons of importance, to halt before her 
door as if the owners were within. With respect to most of them, this 
was effected by bribing the drivers. But a gentleman, who watched 
her closely, observed that Charles J. Fox actually left his carriage and 
went into the house, and this more than once. He was then, it must 

ting the finishing touch to the head of the from Allan Cunningham, considered that the 

poet. "The likenesses were considered good." picture presented "anything but a fortunate 

— Cunningham'' s Lives, vol. vi. p. 1'24. It was likeness." Northcote died July 13th, 1831, in 

exhibited in 1871 in Edinburgh; its size is 4 ft. his eighty-fifth year. 
2 in. X 3 ft. 2 in. Mr. David Laing, difi"ering 



390 JOURNAL [May 

be noticed, iu the Ministry. When Mrs. Phipps was blown up, this 
circumstance was recollected as deserving explanation, which Fox 
readily gave at Brooks's and elsewhere. It seems Mrs. Phipps had 
the art to pursuade him that she had the disposal of what was then 
called a hysena — that is, an heiress — an immense Jamaica heiress, in 
whom she was willing to give or sell her interest to Charles Fox, 
Without having perfect confidence in the obliging proposal, the great 
statesman thought the thing worth looking after, and became so ear- 
nest in it, that Mrs. Phipps was desirous to back out of it for fear of 
discovery. With this view she made confession one fine morning, 
with many professions of the deepest feelings, that the hyaena had 
proved a frail monster, and given birth to a girl or boy — no matter 
which. Even this did not make Charles quit chase of the hyaena. He 
intimated that if the cash was plenty and certain, the circumstance 
might be overlooked. Mrs. Phipps had nothing for it but to double 
the disgusting dose. *' The poor child," she said, " was unfortunately 
of a mixed colour, somewhat tinged with the blood of Africa ; no 
doubt Mr. Fox was himself very dark, and the circumstance might not 
draw attention," etc., etc. This singular anecdote was touched upon 
by Foote, and is the cause of introducing the negress into the Cozen- 
ers,^ though no express allusion to Charles Fox was admitted. Lady 

tells me that, in her youth, the laugh was universal so soon as 

the black woman appeared. It is one of the numerous hits that will 
be lost to posterity. Jack Fuller, celebrated for his attempt on the 
Speaker's wig, told me he was editing Foote, but I think he has 
hardly taste enough. He told me Colman was to be his assistant.'^ 

Went down in the morning to Montagu House, where I found the 
Duke going out to suffer a recovery.^ I had some fancy to see the 
ceremony, but more to get my breakfast, which I took at a coffee- 
house at Charing Cross. 

I sat to Northcote, who is to introduce himself in the same piece 
in the act of painting me, like some pictures of the Venetian school. 
The artist is an old man, low in stature, and bent with years — four- 
score at least. But the eye is quick and the countenance noble. A 
pleasant companion, familiar with recollections of Sir Joshua, Samuel 
Johnson, Burke, Goldsmith, etc. His account of the last confirms all 
that we have heard of his oddities. 

Dined with Mr. Arbuthnot, where met Duke of Rutland, Lord and 
Lady Londonderry, etc., etc. Went to hear Mrs. Arkwright at Lady 
Charlotte Greville's. Lockhart came home to-day. 

Mai/ 10. — Another long sitting to the oldAVizard Northcote. He 
really resembles an animated mummy.* He has altered my ideas of 

1 Act III. Sc. 2. year, in 1834, without apparently liaving car- 

2 John Fuller, long M.P. for Surrey, an ec- ried out his intention of editing Foote. 
centric character, and looked upon as standing 3 A process in English copyhold law. 
jester to the House of Commons. Scott first ^ Hazlitt said of Northcote. that talking with 
met him in Chantrey's studio in 1820. —See him was like conversing with the dead: "You 
Life, vol. vi. pp. 2U6, 207. He died in his 77th see a little old man, pale and fragile^ with eyes 



1828.] JOURNAL 391 

Sir Joshua Reynolds, whom, from the expressions used by Goldsmith, 
Johnson, and others, I used to think an amiable and benevolent char- 
acter. But though not void of generosity, he was cold, unfeeling, and 
indifferent to his family ; so much so that his sister. Miss Reynolds, 
after expressing her wonder at the general acceptance which Sir 
Joshua met with in society, concluded with, " For me, I only see in 
him a dark gloomy tyrant." I own this view of his character hurt 
me, by depriving me of the pleasing vision of the highest talents 
united with the kindest temper. But Northcote says his disagreeable 
points were rather negative than positive — more a want of feeling 
than any desire to hurt or tyrannise. They arose from his exclusive 
attachment to art. 

Dined with a pleasant party at Lord Gower's. Lady Gower is a 
beautiful woman, and extremely courteous. Mrs. Arkwright was of 
the party. I am getting well acquainted with her, and think I can 
see a great deal of sense mixed with her accomplishment. 

May 11. — Breakfasted with Dr. Maltby, preacher in Lincoln's Inn. 
He was to have been the next Bishop, if the Whigs had held their 
ground. His person, manners, and attainments would have suited the 
lawn sleeves well. I heard service in the chapel, which is a very 
handsome place of worship ; it is upstairs, which seems extraordinary, 
and the space beneath forms cloisters, in which the ancient Benchers 
of the Society of Lincoln's Inn are entered. I met my old friend Sir 
William Grant,^ and had some conversation with him. Dr. Maltby 
gave us a good sermon upon the introduction of the Gospel. There 
was only one monument in the chapel, a handsome tablet to the 
memory of Perceval. The circumstance that it was the only monu- 
ment in the chapel of a society which had produced so many men of 
talents and distinction was striking — it was a tribute due to the sud- 
denness of his strange catastrophe. There is nothing very particular 
in the hall of Lincoln's Inn, nor its parlour, which are like those of a 
college. Indeed the whole establishment has a monastic look. 

Sat to Northcote, who only requires {^Deo gratias) another sitting. 
Dined with his Majesty in a very private party — five or six only be- 
ing present. I was received most kindly as usual. It is impossible 
to conceive a more friendly manner than his Majesty used towards 
me. I spoke to S. W. K. about the dedication of the collected works, 
and he says it will be highly well taken.'' 

I went after the party broke up to Mrs. Scott of Harden, where I 
made acquaintance with her beautiful kinswoman. Lady Sarah Pon- 
sonby, whose countenance is really seraphic and totally devoid of af- 
fectation. 



gleaming like the lights hung in tombs. He i Born 1752, died 1832; Master of the Rolls 

seems little better than a ghost, and hangs from 1801 to 1817. 

wavering and trembling on the very verge of 

life; you would think a breath would blow him 

away, and yet what fine things he says!" — 2 The J/a^nwrn Opus was dedicated to George 

Conversations. lY.—j. a. l. 



392 JOURNAL [May 

May 12. — Old George ii. was, as is well known, extremely pas- 
sionate. On these occasions his small stock of English totally failed 
him, and he used to express his indignation in the following form : 
" G- — d — n me, who I am ? Got d — n you, who you be ?" Lock- 
hart and I visited a Mrs. Quillinan,^ with whom Wordsworth and his 
wife have pitched their tent. I was glad to see my old friend, whose 
conversation has so much that is fresh and manly in it. I do not at 
all acquiesce in his system of poetry, and I think he has injured his 
own fame by adhering to it. But a better or more sensible man I 
do not know than W. W. 

Afterwards Lockhart and I called on Miss Nicolson, and from 
thence I wandered down into that immense hash of a city to see 
Heath, and fortunately caught hold on him. All this made me too 
late for Northcote, — who was placable, however.'^ 

Dined at Sir John Shelley's, a petit convert. Here were the Duke 
of Wellington, Duke of Rutland, and only one or two more, particu- 
larly Mr. and Mrs. Arbuthnot. The evening was very pleasant, and 
did not break up till twelve at night. 

May 13. — Breakfasted with Sir George Philips — there was Syd- 
ney Smith, full of fun and spirit, and his daughter, who is a good- 
humoured agreeable girl. We had a pleasant breakfast party. 

The Catholics have carried their question, which I suppose will 
be thrown out in the Lords. I think they had better concede this 
oft-disputed point, and dissolve the league which binds so many peo- 
ple in opposition to Government. It is a matter of great consequence 
that men should not acquire the habit of opposing. No earthly ad- 
vantage would arise to Ireland from ceding what is retained, where so 
much has been already yielded up. Indeed the Catholic gentry do 
not pretend that the granting the immunities they require would tran- 
quillise the country, but only that it would remove from men of hon- 
our all pretext for countenancing them. This is on the principle of 
the solicitor of the unhappy Rajah Nuncomar, who after extorting as 
much money as he could, under pretence of bribing persons to pro- 
cure his pardon, facilitate his escape, etc., found himself pressed by 
his victim for a final answer. " The preparations for death are ready," 
said the Rajah ; " I fear, notwithstanding all you have told me, their 
intention is to take my life." " By G — d," replied the trusty solici- 
tor, " if they do I will never forgive them." So if there are further 
disturbances after the Catholic claims are granted, I suppose those by 
whom they are now advocated will never forgive their friends the 
Pats ; and that will be all John Bull will get for it. I dined with 

1 Whose son afterwards married Dora, Words- dislike to painters, that whenever he saw a 
worth's daughter. man take out a pencil and paper, and look at 

him, he set up a howl, and ran off to the Eil- 

2 At the last sitting Northcote remarked, don Hill. His unfortunate master, however 
"Yon have often sat for your portrait?" well he can howl, was never able to run much; 

"Yes," said Sir Walter; "my dog Maida and he was therefore obliged to abide the event. 
I have sat frequently — so often that Maida, Yes, I have frequently sat for my picture." — 
who had little philosophy, conceived such a Cunningham's Painters, vol. vi. pp. 125-6. 



1828.] JOURNAL 393 

Lady Stafford, for whom I have much regard. I recollect her ever 
since she stood at her aunt Lady Glenorchy's window, in George 
Square, reviewing her regiment of Sutherland giants. She was, as 
she ever is, most attentive and kind. 

May 14. — I carried Lockhart to Lady Francis Gower's to hear Mrs. 
Arkwright sing, and I think he admired her as much as his nature 
permits him to love anything musical, for he certainly is not quickly 
moved by concord of sweet sounds. I do not understand them bet- 
ter than he, but the voce del petto always affects me, and Mrs. A. has 
it in perfection. I have received as much pleasure from that lady's 
music as sound could ever give me.^ Lockhart goes off for Brighton. 
I had a round of men in office. I waited on the Duke at Downing 
St., and I think put L. right there, if he will look to himself. But I 
can only tee the ball ; he must strike the blow with the golf club 
himself. I saw Mr. Renton, and he promised to look after Harper's 
business favourably. Good gracious, what a solicitor we are grown ! 

Dined with Lady Davy — a pleasant party ; but I was out of spir- 
its ; I think partly on Johnnie's account, partly from fatigue. There 
was William Henry Lyttelton amongst others ; much of his oddity has 
rubbed off, and he is an honoured courtly gentleman,with a great deal of 
wit ; and not one of the fine people who perplex you by shutting their 
mouths if you begin to speak. I never fear quizzing, so am not afraid 
of this species of lying-in-wait. Lord have mercy on me if I were ! 

May 15. — Dined at the Roxburghe Club. Lord Spencer presided, 
but had a cold which limited his exertions. Lord Clive, beside whom 
I sat, was deaf, though intelligent and good-humoured. The Duke 
of Devonshire was still deafer. There were many little chirruping 
men who might have talked but went into committee. There was lit- 
tle general conversation. I should have mentioned that I breakfasted 
with kind, good Mr. Hughes, and met the Bishop of Llandaff — strong- 
ly intelligent. I do not understand his politics about the Catholic 
question. He seems disposed to concede, yet is Toryissimus. Per- 
haps they wish the question ended, but the present opinions of the 
Sovereign are too much interested to permit them to quit it. 

May 16. — Breakfasted with Mr. Reynolds ; a miscellaneous party. 
Wordsworth, right welcome unto me, was there. I had also a sight 
of Godwin the philosopher, grown old and thin — of Douglas Kin- 
naird, whom I asked about Byron's statue, which is going forward — 
of Luttrell, and others whom I knew not. I stayed an instant at 
Pickering's, a young publisher's, and bought some dramatic reprints. 
I love them very much, but I would [not] advise a young man to un- 
dertake them. They are of course dear, and as they have not the 
dignity of scarcity, the bibliomaniacs pass them by as if they were 
plated candlesticks. They may hold as good a light for all that as if 
they were real silver, and therefore I buy them when I can light on 

1 See ante, May 1st, p. 386, note 2. 



394 JOURNAL [May 

them. But here I am spending money when I have more need to 
make it. On Monday, the 26th, it shall be Northward ho ! 

Dined at Lady Georgiana and Mr. Agar Ellis's.^ There were Lord 
and Lady Stafford there, and others to whom I am sincerely attached. 

May 17. — A day of busy idleness. Richardson came and break- 
fasted with me like a good fellow. Then I went to Mr. Chantrey, 
and sat for an hour to finish the bust.* Thereafter, about twelve 
o'clock, I went to breakfast the second, at Lady Shelley's, where there 
was a great morning party. A young lady ^ begged a lock of my hair, 
which was not worth refusing. I stipulated for a kiss, which I was 
permitted to take. From this I went to the Duke of Wellington, who 
gave me some hints or rather details. Afterwards I drove out to Chis- 
wick, where I had never been before. A numerous and gay party 
were assembled to walk and enjoy the beauties of that Palladian 
[dome ?] ; the place and highly ornamented gardens belonging to it 
resemble a picture of Watteau. There is some affectation in the 
picture, but in the ensemble the original looked very well. The Duke 
of Devonshire received every one with the best possible manners. 
The scene was dignified by the presence of an immense elephant, 
who, under charge of a groom, wandered up and down, giving an air 
of Asiatic pageantry to the entertainment. I was never before sensi- 
ble of the dignity which largeness of size and freedom of movement 
give to this otherwise very ugly animal. As I was to dine at Holland 
House, I did not partake in the magnificent repast which was offered 
to us, and took myself off about five o'clock. I contrived to make a 
demi-toilette at Holland House rather than drive all the way to Lon- 
don. Rogers came to dinner, which was very entertaining. The 
Duke of Manchester was there, whom I remember having seen long 
ago. He had left a part of his brain in Jamaica by a terrible fract- 
ure, yet, notwithstanding the accident and the bad climate, was still 
a fine -looking man. Lady Holland* pressed me to stay all night, 
which I did accordingly. 

May 18. — The freshness of the air, the singing of the birds, the 
beautiful aspect of nature, the size of the venerable trees, all gave me 
a delightful feeling this morning. It seemed there was pleasure even 
in living and breathing, without anything else. We {i.e. Rogers and 
I) wandered into a green lane bordered with fine trees, which might 
have been twenty miles from a town. It will be a great pity when 
this ancient house must come down and give way to brick works and 
brick-houses. It is not that Holland House is fine as a building ; on 

1 Mr. Ellis, afterwards created Baron Dover, Lockhart says the young lady was Miss Shel- 
was the author of Historical Inquiries into the ley, who became in 1834 the Hon. Mrs. George 
Character of Lord Clarendon. 8vo, Lond. 1827. Edgcumbe. 

„ „. „ „, ^. ,. ,. 4 Scott had dined at Holland House in 1806, 

2 Sir F Chantrey was at this time executing ^^^^ ^^ consequence of some remarks by Lord 
his second bust of Sir Walter— that ordered by Holland in the House of Lords in 1810, on 
Sir Robert Peel, and which is now at Drayton. Thomas Scotts affairs, there had apparently 

been no renewal of the acquaintanceship until 



— J. G. L, 



Lady Shelley of Maresfleld Park. Mr. now. 



1828.] JOURNAL 395 

the contrary, it has a tumble -down look; and, although decorated 
with the bastard Gothic of James i.'s time, the front is heavy. But 
it resembles many respectable matrons, who, having been absolutely 
ugly during youth, acquire by age an air of dignity ; — though one is 
chiefly affected by the air of deep seclusion which is spread around 
the domain. I called on Mr. Peel as I returned home, and after that 
on Lord Melville. The latter undertook for Allan Cunningham's son's 
cadetship, for which I am right glad. 

Dined at Mr. and Lady Sarah Ponsonby's, who called on us last 
year at Abbotsford. The party was very pleasant, having Lord and 
Lady Gower, whom I like, Mr. and Lady Georgiana Ellis, and other 
persons of distinction. Saw Wordsworth too, and learned that Tom 
Moore was come to town. 

May 19. — A morning of business. Breakfasted with Dumergue 
and one or two friends. Dined by command with the Duchess of 
Kent. I was very kindly recognised by Prince Leopold. I was pre- 
sented to the little Princess Victoria, — I hope they will change her 
name, — the heir apparent to the Crown as things now stand. How 
strange that so large and fine a family as that of his late Majesty 
should have died off and decayed into old age with so few descend- 
ants ! Prince George of Cumberland is, they say, a fine boy about 
nine years old — a bit of a pickle, swears and romps like a brat that 
has been bred in a barrack yard. This little lady is educated with 
much care, and watched so closely by the Duchess and the principal 
governess, that no busy maid has a moment to whisper, '' You are 
heir of England." I suspect if we could dissect the little head, we 
should find that some pigeon or other bird of the air had carried the 
matter. She is fair, like the Royal Family, but does not look as if 
she would be pretty. The Duchess herself is very pleasing and affa- 
ble in her manners. I sat by Mr. Spring Rice, a very agreeable man. 
He is a great leader among the Pro-Catholics. I saw also Charles 
Wynn and his lady — and the evening, for a Court evening, went agree- 
ably off. I am commanded for two days by Prince Leopold, but will 
send excuses. 

May 20. — I set out for Brighton this morning in a light coach, 
which performed the distance in six hours — otherwise the journey 
was uncomfortable. Three women, the very specimens of woman- 
kind, — I mean trumpery, — a child who was sick, but afterwards 
looked and smiled, and was the only thing like company. The road 
is pleasant enough till it gets into the Wealds of Sussex, a huge suc- 
cession of green downs which sweep along the sea-coast for many 
miles. Brighton seems grown twice as large since 1815. It is a city 
of loiterers and invalids — a Vanity Fair for pipers, dancing of bears, 
and for the feats of Mr. Punch. I found all my family well except- 
ing the poor pale Johnnie ; and he is really a thing to break one's 
heart by looking at — yet he is better. The rest are in high kelter. 

My old friend Will Rose dined with us, also a Doctor Yates and 



396 JOURNAL [May 

his wife — the Esculapius of Brighton, who seems a sensible man. I 
was entertained with the empire he exerted over him as protector of 
his health. I was very happy to find myself at Sophia's quiet table, 
and am only sorry that I must quit her so soon. 

May 21. — This being a fine day, we made some visits in the 
morning, in the course of which I waited on Mrs. Davies, sister of 
Mrs. Charlotte Smith,* and herself the author of the Peacock at Home^ 
one of the prettiest and liveliest yewa: cf esprit in our language. She 
is a fine stately old lady — not a bit of a literary person, — I mean hav- 
ing none of the affectation of it, but like a lady of considerable rank. 
I am glad I have seen her. Renewed my acquaintance with Lady 
Charlotte Hamilton, nee Lady Charlotte Hume, and talked over some 
stories thirty years old at least. We then took a fly, as they call the 
light carriages, and drove as far as the Devil's Ditch. A rampart it 
is of great strength and depth, enclosing, I presume, the precincts of 
a British town that must have held 30,000 men at least. I could not 
discover where they got water. 

We got home at four, and dined at five, and smoked cigars till 
eight. Will Rose came in with his man Hinvaes,^ who is as much a 
piece of Rose as Trim was of Uncle Toby. A¥e laughed over tales 
" both old and new " till ten o'clock came, and then broke up. 

May 22. — Left Brighton this morning with a heavy heart. Poor 
Johnnie looks so very poorly that I cannot but regard his case as 
desperate, and then God help the child's parents ! Amen ! 

We took the whole of one of the post-coaches, and so came rap- 
idly to town, Sophia coming along with us about a new servant. 
This enabled me to dine with Mr. Adolphus, the celebrated barrister, 
the father to my young friend who wrote so like a gentleman on my 
matters.^ I met Mr. G-urney, Archdeacon Wrangham, and a lawyer 
or two besides. I may be partial, but the conversation of intelligent 
barristers amuses me more than that of other professional persons. 
There is more of real life in it, with which, in all its phases, people 
of business get so well acquainted. Mr. Adolphus is a man of varied 

1 See Miscellaneous Prose Works,vol.iy. p. 20. more, a poem by the same "author," accept of 

2 David Hinves, Mr. W. Stewart Rose's faith- this corrected copy of Christabel as a small to- 
ful and affectionate attendant, furnished Scott ken of regard ; yet such a testimonial as I 
with some hints for his picture of Davie Gel- would not pay to any one I did not esteem, 
latly in Waverley. though he were an emperor. 

Jlr. Lockhart tells us that Hinves was more "Be assured I will send you for your private 

than forty years in Mr. Rose's service; he had library every work I have published (if there 

been a bookbinder by trade and a jireacher be any to be had) and whatever I shall pub- 

among the ^lethodists. lish. Keep steady to the Faith. If the fount- 

"A sermon heard casually under a tree in ainhead be always full, the stream cannot be 

the New Forest contained such touches of good long empty. — Yours sincerely, S. T. Coleridge. 

feeling and broad humour that Rose promoted u< u November, I8I6, Mudford.'" 



the preacher to be his valet on the spot. He 



-Life, vol. iv. pp. 397- 



was treated more like a fnend than a servant mxiYes died in Mr. Rose's service circa 1838, 

by his master and by all his master s intimate ^^^ j^jg ^^^g^gj. fonowed him on the 30th April, 

friends. Scott presented him with all his 1343, a few weeks after his friend Morritt. 

works; and Coleridge gave him a corrected (or ' 

rather an altered) copy of Christabel with this 3 An analysis of these letters was published 

inscription on the fly-leaf : ' Dear Hinves,— by Mr. Lockhart in the Life^ vol. vi. pp. 346- 

Till this book is concluded, and with it Gundi- 386. 



1828.] JOURNAL 397 

information, and very amusing. He told me a gipsy told him of the 
success he should have in life, and how it would be endangered by 
his own heat of temper, alluding, I believe, to a quarrel betwixt him 
and a brother barrister. 

May 23. — I breakfasted with Chantrey, and met the celebrated 
Coke of Norfolk,' a very pleasing man, who gave me some account 
of his plantations. I understand from him that, like every wise man, 
he planted land that would not let for 5s. per acre, but which now 
produces £3000 a year in wood. He talked of the trees which he 
had planted as being so thick that a man could not fathom^ them. 
Withers, he said, was never employed save upon one or two small 
jobs of about twenty acres on which every expense was bestowed 
with a view to early growth. So much for Withers. I shall have a 
rod in pickle for him if worth while. ^ After sitting to Chantrey for 
the last time, I called on Lady Shelley, P. P. C, and was sorry to find 
her worse than she had been. Dined with Lady Stafford, where I 
met the two Lochs, John and James. The former gave me his prom- 
ise for a cadetship to Allan Cunningham's son ; I have a similar 
promise from Lord Melville, and thus I am in the situation in which 
I have been at daddies Wiel,* where I have caught two trouts, one 
with the fly, the other with the bobber. I have landed both, and so 
I will now. Mr. Loch also promised me to get out Shortreed as a 
free mariner. Tom Grenville was at dinner. 

May 24. — This day we dined at Richmond Park with Lord Sid- 
mouth. Before dinner his Lordship showed me letters which passed 
between the great Lord Chatham and Dr. Addington, Lord Sidmouth's 
[father]. There was much of that familiar friendship which arises, 
and must arise, between an invalid, the head of an invalid family, 
and their medical adviser, supposing the last to be a wise and well- 
bred man. The character of Lord Chatham's handwriting is strong 
and bold, and his expressions short and manly. There are intima- 
tions of his partiality for William, whose health seems to have been 
precarious during boyhood. He talks of AVilliam imitating him in 
all he did, and calling for ale because his father was recommended 
to drink it. " If I should smoke," he said, " William would instantly 
call for a pipe ;" and, he wisely infers, " I must take care what I do." 
The letters of the late William Pitt are of great curiosity, but as, like 
all real letters of business, they only allude to matters with which 
his correspondent is well acquainted, and do not enter into details, 
they would require an ample commentary. I hope Lord Sidmouth 

1 Created Earl of Leicester in 1837. "burning the water" in company with Hogg 

2 It is worth noting that Sir Walter first and Laidlaw. Hogg records that the crazy 
wrote "grasp" — and then deleted the word in coble went to the bottom while Scott was 
favour of the technical term — "fathom." shouting — 

3 W. Withers had just published a Leiter to « a > • .v v . v .. i 
Sir Walter Scott exposing certain fundamental il, feven miles J?ol"''' 
errors in his late Essay on Planting.— Roli: 

Norfolk, 1828. The scene was not forgotten when he came to 

* A deep pool in the Tweed, in which Scott write the twenty-sixth chapter of Guy Man- 
had had a singular nocturnal adventure while nering. 



398 JOURNAL [xMay 

will supply this, and have urged it as much as I can. I think, though 
I hate letters and abominate interference, I will write to him on this 
subject. 

I have bought a certain quantity of reprints from a bookseller in 
Chancery Lane, Pickering by name. I urged him to print the con- 
troversy between Greene and the Harveys. He wished me to write 
a third part to a fine edition of Cotton's Angler^ for which I am quite 
incompetent.^ 

I met at Richmond my old and much esteemed friend Lord Stow- 
ell,'' looking very frail and even comatose. Quantum mutatus ! He 
was one of the pleasantest men I ever knew. 

Respecting the letters, I picked up from those of Pitt that he was 
always extremely desirous of peace with France, and even reckoned 
upon it at a moment when he ought to have despaired. I suspect 
this false view of the state of France (for such it was), which in- 
duced the British Minister to look for peace when there was no 
chance of it, damped his ardour in maintaining the war. He wanted 
the lofty ideas of his father — you read it in his handwriting, great 
statesman as he was. I saw a letter or two of Burke's in which there 
is an epanchement du coeur not visible in those of Pitt, who writes like 
a Premier to his colleague. Burke was under the strange hallucina- 
tion that his son, who predeceased him, was a man of greater talents 
than himself. On the contrary, he had little talent and no resolu- 
tion. On moving some resolutions in favour of the Catholics, which 
were ill-received by the House of Commons, young Burke actually 
ran away, which an Orangeman compared to a cross-reading in the 
newspapers : — Yesterday the Catholic resolutions were moved, etc., 
but, the pistol missing fire, the villains ran off 1 

May 25. — After a morning of letter-writing, leave-taking, papers 
destroying, and God knows what trumpery, Sophia and I set out for 
Hampton Court, carrying with us the following lions and lionesses — 
Samuel Rogers, Tom Moore, Wordsworth, with wife and daughter. 
We were very kindly and properly received by Walter and his wife, 
and a very pleasant party.' 

May 26. — An awful confusion with paying of bills, writing of 
cards, and all species of trumpery business. Southey, who is just 
come to town, breakfasted with us. He looks, I think, but poorly, 
but it may be owing to family misfortune. One is always tempted 
to compare Wordsworth and Southey. The latter is unquestionably 
the greater scholar — I mean possesses the most extensive stock of 

1 This refers to the splendid edition of Wal- ton (where we found the Wordsworths), walked 

ton and Cotton, edited by Nicolas, and illus- about,— the whole party in the gay walk where 

trated by Stothard and Inskipp, published in the band plays, to the infinite delight of the 

1836 after nearly ten years' preparation, in two Hampton Uues, who were all eyes after Scott, 

vols, large 8vo. The other scribblers not coming in for a glance. 

» Sir William Scott, Lord Stowell, died 28th T^ie dinner odd; but being near Scott I found 

January, 1836, aged ninety. Jt agreeable, and was delighted to see him so 

"" ' ^ ' happy, with his tall son, the Major," etc., etc. 

3 Moore writes: "On our arrival at Hamp- — Diary ^ vol. v. p. 287. 



1828.] JOURNAL 399 

information, but there is a freshness, vivacity, and spring about Words- 
worth's mind, which, if we may compare two men of uncommon 
powers, shows more originality. I say nothing of their poetry. 
Wordsworth has a system which disposes him to take the bull by 
the horns and offend public taste, which, right or wrong, will always 
be the taste of the public ; yet he could be popular if he would, — 
witness the Feast at Brougham Castle, — Song of the Cliffords, I think, 
is the name. 

I walked down to call, with Rogers, on Mrs. D'Arblay. She 
showed me some notes which she was making about her novels, 
which she induced me to believe had been recollected and jotted 
down in. compliance with my suggestions on a former occasion. It 
is curious how she contrived to get Evelina printed and published 
without her father's knowledge. Her brother placed it in the hands 
of one Lowndes, who, after its success, bought it for £20! ! ! and had 
the magnanimity to add £10 — the price, I think, of Paradise Lost. 
One of her sisters betrayed the secret to her father, who then eager- 
ly lent his ears to hear what was said of the new novel, and the first 
opinion w^bicb saluted his delighted ears was the voice of Johnson 
energetically recommending it to the perusal of Mrs. Thrale.^ 

At parting, Rogers gave me a gold-mounted pair of glasses, which 
I will not part with in a hurry. I really like Rogers, and have always 
found him most friendly. After many petty delays we set off at last 
and reached Bushy Grove to dine with my kind and worthy family 
friend and relative, David Haliburton. I am delighted to find him in 
all the enjoyment of life, witb the vivacity of youth in bis sentiments 
and enjoyments. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell Marjoribanks are the only 
company here, witb Miss Parker. 

May 27. — Well, my retreat from London is now accomplished, 
and I may fairly balance the advantage and loss of this London trip. 
It has cost me a good deal of money, and Johnnie's illness has taken 
away much of the pleasure I had promised myself. But if I can 
judge from the reception I have met with, I have the pleasure to know 
that I stand as fair with the public, and as high with my personal 
friends, as in any period of my life. And this has enabled me to for- 
ward the following objects to myself and others : — 

1st. I have been able to place Lockart on the right footing in 
the right quarter, leaving the improvement of his place of vantage to 
himself as circumstances should occur. 

2d. I have put the Chancery suit in the right train, which without 
me could not have been done.'' 



1 The author of Evelina died at Bath in 1840, copyright. This was the year in which Wa- 

at the age of eighty-eight. Subsequent to this verley appeared, for the copyright of which 

meeting with Scott she published memoirs of Constable did not see his way to offer more 

her father, Dr. Burney (in 1S32). It is stated than £700. 
that for her novel Camdlla, published in 1796, 

she received a subscription of 3000 guineas, 2 This item refers to money which had be- 

and for the Wanderer^ in 1814, £1500 for the longed to Lady Scott's parents. 



400 JOURNAL [May 

3d. I picked up some knowledge of the state of existing matters, 
which is interesting and may be useful. 

4th. I have succeeded in helping to get a commission for James 
Skene. 

5th. I have got two cadetships for the sons of Allan Cunning- 
ham. 

6th. I have got leave to Andrew Shortreed to go out to India. 

7th. I have put John Eckford into correspondence with Mr. Loch, 
who thinks he can do something for his claim. 

8th. I have been of material assistance to poor Terry in his affairs. 

9th. I have effectually protected my Darnick neighbours and my- 
self against the New Road Bill. 

Other advantages there are, besides the great one of scouring up 
one's own mind a little and renewing intercourse with old friends, 
bringing one's-self nearer in short to the currency of the time. 

All this may weigh against the expenditure of £200 or £250, 
when money is fortunately not very scarce with me. 

We went out for a most agreeable drive through the Hertford- 
shire Lanes — a strange intricate combination of narrow roads passing 
through the country, winding and turning among oaks and other large 
timber, just like path-ways cut through a forest. They wind and turn 
in so singular a manner, and resemble each other so much, that a 
stranger would have difficulty to make way amongst them. We vis- 
ited Moor Park (not the house of Sir William Temple, but that 
where the Duke and Duchess of Monmouth lived). Having rather 
a commanding situation, you look down on the valley, which, being 
divided into small enclosures bordered with wood, resembles a forest 
when so looked down on. The house has a handsome entrance-hall, 
painted by Sir James Thornhill, in a very French taste, yet handsome. 
He was Hogarth's father-in-law, and not easily reconciled to the 
match. Thornhill's paintings are certainly not of the first class, yet 
the practice of painting the walls and roof of a dwelling-house gives, 
in my eyes, a warm and rich air to the apartments. Lord Grosvenor 
has now bought this fine place, once Lord Anson's — hence the Moor 
Park apricot is also called Ansoniana. After seeing Moor Park we 
went to the Grove, the Earl of Clarendon's country-seat. The house 
looks small and of little consequence, but contains many good por- 
traits, as I was told, of the Hyde family.^ The park has fine views 
and magnificent trees. 

We went to Cashiobury, belonging to the Earl of Essex, an old 
mansion, apparently, with a fine park. The Colne runs through the 
grounds, or rather creeps through them. 

"For the Colne 
Is black and swollen, 

Snake-like, he winds his way, 

1 Tt contains half of Chancellor Clarendon's famous collection— the other half is at Bothwell 

Caslle. 



1828.] JOURNAL 401 

Unlike the burns 
From Highland urns 

That dance by crag and brae." 

Borthwick-brae^ came to dinner from town, and we had a very pleas- 
ant evening. My excellent old friend reminded me of tlie old and 
bitter feud between the Scotts and the Haliburtons, and observed it 
was curious I should have united the blood of two hostile clans. 

May 28. — We took leave of our kind old host after breakfast, and 
set out for our own land. Our elegant researches carried us out of 
the high-road and through a labyrinth of intricate lanes, — which 
seem made on purpose to afford strangers the full benefit of a dark 
night and a drunk driver, — in order to visit Gill's Hill, famous for the 
murder of Mr. Weare. 

The place has the strongest title to the description of Words- 
worth : — 

" A merry spot, 'tis said, in days of yore, 
But something ails it now — the place is cursed." 

The principal part of the house has been destroyed, and only the 
kitchen remains standing. The garden has been dismantled, though 
a few laurels and garden shrubs, run wild, continue to mark the spot. 
The fatal pond is now only a green swamp, but so near the house that 
one cannot conceive how it was ever chosen as a place of temporary 
concealment of the murdered body. Indeed the whole history of the 
murder, and the scenes which ensued, are strange pictures of desper- 
ate and short-sighted wickedness. The feasting — the singing — the 
murderer with his hands still bloody hanging round the neck of one 
of the females — the watch-chain of the murdered man, argue the ut- 
most apathy. Even Probert, the most frightened of the party, fled no 
further for relief than to the brandy bottle, and is found in the very 
lane, and at the spot of the murder, seeking for the murderous weapon, 
and exposing himself to the view of the passengers. Another singu- 
lar mark of stupid audacity was their venturing to wear the clothes 
of their victim. There was a want of foresight in the whole arrange- 
ment of the deed, and the attempts to conceal it, which argued strange 
inconsideration, which a professed robber would not have exhibited. 
There was just one single shade of redeeming character about a busi- 
ness so brutal, perpetrated by men above the very lowest rank of life 
^ — it was the mixture of revenge which afforded some relief to the 
circumstances of treachery and premeditation which accompanied it. 
But Weare was a cheat, and had no doubt pillaged Thurtell, who 
therefore deemed he might take greater liberties with him than with 
others. 

The dirt of the present habitation equalled its wretched desola- 

1 William Elliot Lockhart of Cleghorn and Borthwick-brae, long M.P. for Selkirkshire. 
26 



402 JOURNAL [May 

tion, and a truculent-looMng hag, who showed us the place, and re- 
ceived half-a-crown, looked not unlike the natural inmate of such a 
mansion. She indicated as much herself, saying the landlord had 
dismantled the place because no respectable person would live there. 
She seems to live entirely alone, and fears no ghosts, she says. 

One thing about this mysterious tragedy was never explained. It 
is said that Weare, as is the habit of such men, always carried about 
his person, and between his flannel "waistcoat and shirt, a sum of ready 
money, equal to £1500 or £2000. No such money was ever recov- 
ered, and as the sum divided by Thurtell among his accomplices was 
only about £20, he must, in slang phrase, have bucketed his pals .^ 

We came on as far as Alconbury, where we slept comfortably. 

May 29. — We travelled from Alconbury Hill to Ferry Bridge, 
upwards of a hundred miles, amid all the beauties of " flourish " and 
verdure which spring awakens at her first approach in the midland 
counties of England, but without any variety save those of the sea- 
son's making. I do believe this great north road is the dullest in 
the world, as well as the most convenient for the traveller. Nothing 
seems to me to have been altered within twenty or thirty years, save 
the noses of the landlords, which have bloomed and given place to 
another set of proboscises as germane as the old ones to the very 
welcome^ — please to light — '' Orses forward^ and ready out. The skele- 
ton at Barnby Moor has deserted his gibbet, and that is the only 
change I recollect. 

I have amused myself to-day with reading Lockhart's Life of 
Burns, which is very well written — in fact, an admirable thing. He 
has judiciously slurred over his vices and follies ; for although Car- 
rie, I myself, and others, have not said a word more on that subject 
than is true, yet as the dead corpse is straightened, swathed, and made 
decent, so ought the character of such an inimitable genius as Burns 
to be tenderly handled after death. The knowledge of his vicious 
weaknesses or vices is only a subject of sorrow to the well-disposed, 
and of triumph to the profligate. 

May 30. — We left Ferry Bridge at seven, and turning westwards, 
or rather northwestward, at Borough Bridge, we reach Rokeby at 
past three. A mile from the house we met Morritt looking for us. 
I had great pleasure at finding myself at Rokeby, and recollecting a 
hundred passages of past time. Morritt looks well and easy in his 
mind, which I am delighted to see. He is now one of my oldest, 
and, I believe, one of my most sincere, friends, a man unequalled in 
the mixture of sound good sense, high literary cultivation, and the 
kindest and sweetest temper that ever graced a human bosom. His 
nieces are much attached to him, and are deserving and elegant, as 
well as beautiful young women. What there is in our partiality to 



1 Weare, Thurtell, and the rest were professed gamblers. See ante, July 16, 1826, and Life, vol. 
viii. p. 381. 



1828.] JOURNAL 403 

female beauty that commands a species of temperate homage from 
the aged, as well as ecstatic admiration from the young, I cannot con- 
ceive, but it is certain that a very large proportion of some other 
amiable quality is too little to counterbalance the absolute want of 
this advantage. I, to whom beauty is and shall henceforth be a pict- 
ure, still look upon it with the quiet devotion of an old worshipper, 
who no longer offers incense on the shrine, but peaceably presents 
his inch of taper, taking special care in doing so not to burn his own 
fingers. Nothing in life can be more ludicrous or contemptible than 
an old man aping the passions of his youth. 

Talking of youth, there was a certain professor at Cambridge who 
used to keep sketches of all the youths who, from their conduct at 
college, seemed to bid fair for distinction in life. He showed them, 
one day, to an old shrewd sarcastic Master of Arts, who looked over 
the collection, and then observed, "A promising nest of eggs; what 
a pity the great part will turn out addle !" And so they do ; looking 
round amongst the young men, one sees to all appearance fine flour- 
ish — but it ripens not. 

May 31. — I have finished Napier's War in the Peninsula.^ It is 
written in the spirit of a Liberal, but the narrative is distinct and 
clear, and I should suppose accurate. He has, however, given a bad 
sample of accuracy in the case of Lord Strangford, where his pointed 
affirmation has been as pointedly repelled. It is evident he would 
require probing. His defence of Moore is spirited and well argued, 
though it is evident he defends the statesman as much as the gener- 
al. As a Liberal and a military, man. Colonel Napier finds it diflficult 
to steer his course. The former character calls on him to plead for 
the insurgent Spaniards ; the latter induces him to palliate the cru- 
elties of the French. Good-even to him until next volume, which I 
shall long to see. This was a day of pleasure and nothing else. After 
breakfast I walked with Morritt in the new path he has made up the 
Tees. When last here, his poor nephew was of the party. It hangs 
on my mind, and perhaps on Morritt's. When we returned we took 
a short drive as far as Barnard Castle ; and the business of eating 
and drinking took up the remainder of the evening, excepting a dip 
into the Greta Walk. 

1 The first volume had just been published in 1828. The book was completed in 6 vols, in 1840. 



JUNE 

June 1. — We took leave of our friends at Rokeby after breakfast, 
and pursued our well-known path over Stanmore to Brough, Appleby, 
Penrith, and Carlisle. As I have this road by heart, I have little 
amusement save the melancholy task of recalling the sensations with 
which I have traced it in former times, all of which refer to decay of 
animal strength, and abatement if not of mental powers, at least of 
mental energy. The non est tanti grows fast at my time of life. We 
reached Carlisle at seven o'clock, and were housed for the night. 
My books being exhausted, I lighted on an odd volume of the Gen- 
tleman's Magazine, a work in which, as in a pawnbroker's shop, much 
of real curiosity and value are stowed away and concealed amid the 
frippery and trumpery of those reverend old gentlewomen who were 
the regular correspondents of the work. 

June 2. — We intended to walk to the Castle, but were baffled by 
rainy weather. I was obliged to wait for a certificate from the parish 
register — Jlei miki ! ! I cannot have it till ten o'clock, or rather, as 
it chanced, till past eleven, when I got the paper for which I waited.^ 
We lunched at Hawick, and concluded our pilgrimage at'Abbotsford 
about nine at night, where the joyful barking of the dogs, with the 
sight of the kind familiar faces of our domestics, gave us welcome, 
and I enjoyed a sound repose on my own bed. I remark that in this 
journey I have never once experienced depression of spirits, or the 
tremor cordis of which I have sometimes such unpleasant visits. Dis- 
sipation, and a succession of trifling engagements, prevent the mind 
from throwing itself out in the manner calculated to exhaust the 
owner, and to entertain Other people. There is a lesson in this. 

June 3, [Abbotsford]. — This was a very idle day. I waked to walk 
about my beautiful young woods with old Tom and the dogs. The 
sun shone bright, and the wind fanned my cheek as if it were a wel- 
coming. I did not do the least right thing, except packing a few 
books necessary for writing the continuation of Ihe Tales. In this 
merry mood I wandered as far as Huntly Burn, where I found the 

1 About this time Miss Anne Scott wrote to told there could be no doubt, was troubled with 

Mrs. Lockhart: " Early in the morning, before a fit of coughing, which ended in a laugh. The 

we started, papa took me with him to the Ca- man seemed exceeding indignant ; so, when 

thedral. This he had done often before; but papa moved on. I whispered who it was. ' I 

he said he must stand once more on the spot wish you had seen the man's start, and how he 

where he married poor mamma. After that stared and bowed as he parted from us; and 

we went to the Castle, where a new showman then rammed his keys into his pocket and 

went through the old trick of pointing out Fer- went off at a hand-gallop to warn the rest of 

gus Maclvor's very dungeon. Peveril said, ' In- the garrison. But the carriage was ready, and 

deed, are you quite sure, sir?' And on being we escaped a row."— Lt/e, vol. ix. pp. 256-7. 



June, 1828.] JOURNAL 405 

Miss Fergusons well and tappy ; then I sauntered back to Abbots- 
ford, sitting on every bench by the way, and thus 

" It grew to dinner in conclusion." 

A good appetite made my simple meal relish better than the magnifi- 
cent cheer which I have lately partaken of. I smoked a cigar, slept 
away an hour, and read Mure of Auchendrane's trial, and thus ended 
the day. I cannot afford to spend many such, nor would they seem 
so pleasant. 

June 4, \EdinhurgK\. — The former part of this day was employed 
much as yesterday, but some packing was inevitable. Will Laidlaw 
came to dinner, of which we partook at three o'clock. Started at 
half-past four, and arrived at home, if we must call it so, at nine 
o'clock in the evening. I employed my leisure in the chaise to pe- 
ruse Mure of Auchendrane's trial, out of which something might be 
coopered up for the public.^ It is one of the wildest stories I ever 
read. Something might surely be twisted out of it. 

June 5.— Cadell breakfasted ; in great spirits with the success of 
the Fair Maid of Perth. A disappointment being always to be ap- 
prehended, I too am greatly pleased that the evil day is adjourned, 
for the time must come — and yet I can spin a tough yarn still with 
any one now going. 

I was much distressed to find that the last of the Macdonald Bu- 
chanans, a fine lad of about twenty-one, is now decidedly infected by 
the same pulmonary complaint which carried off his four brothers in 
succession. This is indeed a cruel stroke, and it is melancholy to wit- 
ness the undaunted Highland courage of the father. 

I went to Court, and when I returned did some work upon the 
Tales. 

" And now again, boys, to the oar." 

June 6. — I have determined to work sans intermission for lost 
time, and to make up at least my task every day. J. Gibson called 
on me with good hopes that the trustees will authorise the grand opus 
to be set afloat.'^ They are scrupulous a little about the expense of 
engravings, but I fear the taste of the town will not be satisfied with- 
out them. It is time these things were settled. I wrought both be- 
fore and after dinner, and finished five pages, which is two above 
bargain. 

June 7. — Saturday was another working day, and nothing oc- 
curred to disturb me. 

June 8. — I finished five sheets this day. Will Clerk and Francis 
Scott of Harden came to dinner, and we spent a pleasant evening. 

1 See The Doom of Devorgoil : A Melo-Dra- Waverley Novels in 48 vols., which began to be 

ma. Auchendrane : or the Ayrshire Tragedy. issued in June, 1829. The great cost of the 

Published by Cadell in 8vo, 1830. publication naturally caused the Trustees much 

3 Referring to the uniform edition of the anxiety at this period. 



406 JOURNAL [June 

June 0. — I laboured till about one, and was tben obliged to go to 
attend a meeting of the Oil Gas Company, — as I devoutly hope for 
the last time. 

After that I was obliged to go to sit to Colvin Smith, which is an 
atrocious bore, but cannot be helped/ 

Cadell rendered me report of accounts paid for me with vouchers, 
which very nearly puts me out of all shop debts. God grant me grace 
to keep so ! 

June 10-14. — During these five days almost nothing occurred to 
diversify the ordinary task of the day, which, I must own, was dull 
enough. I rose to my task by seven, and, less or more, wrought it 
out in the course of the day, far exceeding the ordinary average of 
three leaves per day. I have attended the Parliament House with 
the most strict regularity, and returned to dine alone with Anne. 
Also, I gave three sittings to Mr. Colvin Smith, who I think has im- 
proved since I saw him. 

Of important intelligence nothing occurs save the termination of 
all suspense on the subject of poor James Macdonald Buchanan. He 
died at Malta. The celebrated Dugald Stewart is also dead, famous 
for his intimate acquaintance with the history and philosophy of the 
human mind. There is much of water-painting in all metaphysics, 
which consist rather of words than ideas. But Stew^art was most im- 
pressive and eloquent. In former days I was frequently with him, 
but not for many years. Latterly, I am told, he had lost not the 
power of thinking, but the power of expressing his thoughts by 
speech. This is like the Metamorphosis of Ovid, the bark binding 
in and hardening the living flesh. 

June 15. — W. Clerk, Francis Scott, and Charles Sharpe dined with 
me, but my task had been concluded before dinner. 

June 16. — Dined at Dalmahoy, with the young Earl and Countess 
of Morton. I like these young noble folks particularly well. Their 
manners and style of living are easy and unaffected, and I should like 
to see them often. Came home at night. The task finished to-day. 
I should mention that the plan about the new edition of the novels 
was considered at a meeting of trustees, and finally approved of. I 
trust it will answer ; yet, who can warrant the continuance of popu- 
larity ? Old Corri,'' who entered into many projects, and could 
never set the sails of a wind-mill so as to catch the aura popularis, 
used to say that he believed that were he to turn baker, it would 
put bread out of fashion. I have had the better luck to dress my 
sails to every wind ; and so blow on, good wind, and spin round, 
whirligig. 

June 17. — Violent rheumatic headache all day. "Wrought, how- 
ever. But what difference this troublesome addition may make on 

i Ante, p. 351, February 2d. tried to set up an Italian opera. In conjunc- 

2 Natali Corri, born in Italy, but settled in tion with a brother he published several mu- 
Edinburgh, where, among other schemes, he sical works. He died at Trieste in 1823. 



1828.] JOURNAL 407 

the quality of the stufi produced, truly I do not know. I finished 
five leaves. 

June 18. — Some Italian gentlemen landed here, under the convey- 
ance of the Misses Haig of Bemerside. They were gentlemanlike 
men ; but as I did not dare to speak bad French, I had not much to 
say to foreigners. Gave them and their pretty guides a good break- 
fast, however. The scene seemed to me to resemble Sheridan's scene 
in the Critic} There are a number of very civil gentlemen trying to 
make themselves understood, and I do not know which is the inter- 
preter. After all, it is not my fault. They who wish to see me 
should be able to speak my language. I called on Mrs. Stewart 
Mackenzie. She received me with all the kindness of former days, 
and I was delighted to see her. I sat about an hour with her. My 
head aches, for all that, and I have heavy fits of drowsiness. Well, I 
have finished my task, and have a right to sleep if I have a mind. I 
dine to day with Lord Mackenzie, where I hope to meet Mrs. Stewart 
Mackenzie again, for I love her warm heart and lively fancy. Ac- 
cordingly I enjoyed this pleasure.^ 

June 19. — Scribbled away lustily. Went to the P. H. Wrote 
when I came home, both before and after dinner — that's all, I think. 
I am become a sort of writing automaton, and truly the joints of my 
knees, especially the left, are so stiff and painful in rising and sitting 
down, that I can hardly help screaming — I that was so robust and ac- 
tive ; I get into a carriage with great difficulty. My head, too, igi 
bothered with rheumatic headaches. Why not ? I got headaches by 
my folly when I was young, and now I am old they come uncalled- 
Infirmity gives what indiscretion bought. 

June 20. — My course is still the same. But I have a painful let- 
ter from Lockhart, which takes away the last hope of poor Johnnie's 
recovery. It is no surprise to me. The poor child, so amiable in its 
disposition, and so promising from its talents, was not formed to be 
long with us, and I have long expected that it must needs come to 
this. I hope I shaH not outlive my children in other cases, and I 
think there is little chance of it. My father did not long survive the 
threescore and ten ; it will be wonderful if I reach that goal of ordi- 
nary mortality. God send it may find me prepared ; and, whatever I 
may have been formerly, high spirits are not now like to carry me away. 

June 21. — At Court, and called on Ballantyne on my return. 1 

1 See Act II. Sc. 2. The Italian family's morning call. 

^ " And thou, gentle Dame, who must bear to thy grief 
For thy clan and thy country the cares of a Chief, 
Whom brief rolling moons, in six changes have left 
Of thy husband, and father, and brethren bereft ; 
To thine ear of affection how sad is the hail 
That salutes thee, the heir of the line of Kintail." 

Poetical Works, vol. viil. p, 394. 

Mary, daughter of Francis, Lord Seaforth, was J. A. Stewart, who assumed the name of Mac- 
bom in Ross-shire in 1784, married, at Barba- kenzie. Mrs. Stewart Mackenzie died at Bra- 
does in 1804, Sir Samuel Hood, and left a wid- han Castle in 1862; her funeral was one of the 
ow in 1814. She married again, in 1817, Mr. largest ever witnessed in the Xorth. 



408 JOURNAL [June 

was obliged to go to the Register Office at one, where I waited near- 
ly an hour without meeting my brethren. But I wrote a letter to 
Lockhart in the meantime. My niece Ann arrived, to my great satis- 
faction. I am glad that Anne, my daughter, has such a sensible and 
clever companion. Dined at Baron Hume's. 

June 22. — Wrought. Had a note from Ballantyne complaining 
of my manuscript, and requesting me to read it over. I would give 
£1000 if I could ; but it would take me longer to read than to write. 
I cannot trace my -pieds de mouche but with great labour and trouble ; 
so e'en take your own share of the burden, my old friend ; and, since 
I cannot read, be thankful I can write. I will look at his proof, how- 
ever, and then be quiet and idle for the rest of the evening. I am 
come to Charles the First's trial, and though I have it by heart, I 
must refresh myself with a reading of Clarendon. Charles Sharpe 
and Francis Scott came in the evening. 

June 23. — This morning the two Annes and I went to Sir Robert 
Liston at Milburn Tower — a beautiful retreat. The travels of the 
venerable diplomatist are indicated by the various articles of curios- 
ity which he has picked up in different corners of the world, and 
put together with much taste. The conservatory and gardens are 
very fine, and contain, I suppose, very curious plants ; — I am sure, 
hard names enough. But then the little Gothic tower, embowered 
amid trees and bushes, surrounded by these pleasant gardens, offer- 
ing many a sunny walk for winter, many a shade for summer, are in- 
expressibly pleasing. The good old knight and his lady are worthy 
of it, for they enjoy it. The artificial piece of water is a failure, like 
most things of the kind. The offices, without being on an extrava- 
gant scale, are most substantial ; the piggery, in particular, is quite a 
palace, and the animals clean and comfortable. I think I have caught 
from them a fit of piggish obstinacy. I came at one, and cannot pre- 
vail upon myself to go to work. I answer the calls of duty as Cali- 
ban does those of Prospero, " There's wood enough within." To be 
sure, I have not got the Clarendon. 

June 24. — It was my father's own son, as John Hielandman said, 
who did little both yesterday and to-day — I mean little in the way 
of literary work, for, as to positive work, I have been writing letters 
about Chancery business till I am sick of it. There was a long hear- 
ing, and while Jeffrey exerted his eloquence in the Inner House, I 
plied my eloquence de billet in the Library. So, on the whole, I am 
no bad boy. Besides, the day is not yet over. 

June 25. — I was surprised to hear that our Academy Rector, Will- 
iams, has renounced the chair of Roman learning in the new London 
University. His alarm was excited by the interest taken by the pre- 
lates in opposing a High Church institution to that desired by Mr. 
Brougham. Both the Bishops and Williams have been unwise. The 
former have manoeuvred ill. They should, in the outset, have taken 
the establishment out of the hands of the Whigs, without suffering 



1828.] JOURNAL 409 

tliem to reinforce themselves by support from [others]. And Will- 
iams was equally precipitate in joining an institution which a small 
degree of foresight might have assured him would be opposed by his 
spiritual superiors. However, there he stands, deprived of his profes- 
sorship by his resignation, and of his rectorship by our having en- 
gaged with a successor. I think it very doubtful whether the Bish- 
ops will now [admit] him into their alliance. He has in that case 
offended both parties. But if they are wise, they will be glad to 
pick up the best schoolmaster in Europe, though he comes for the 
present Grata ex urhe. I accomplished more than my task to-day. 

June 26. — Wrote a long letter to Lockhart about Williams' situa- 
tion, saying how, by sitting betwixt two stools, he 

" Had fallen with heavy thump 

Upon his reverential rump," 

and how the Bishops should pick him up if they wanted their estab- 
lishment to succeed. It is an awkward position in which Williams 
has placed himself. He loses the Whig chair, and has perhaps no 
chance of favour from the High Church for having been willing to 
accept it. Even if they now give him promotion, there will be a 
great outcry on his having left one institution to join another. He 
would be thick-skinned if he stands the clamour. Yet he has to all 
appearance rather sacrificed than advanced his interest. However, I 
say again, the Bishops ought not to omit securing him. 

Mr. Macintosh Mackay breakfasted with rae, modest, intelligent, 
and gentle. I did my duty and more in the course of the day. 

I am vexed about Mackay missing the church of Cupar in Angus. 
It is in the Crown's gift, and Peel, finding that two parties in the 
town recommended two opposite candidates, very wisely chose to dis- 
appoint them both, and was desirous of bestowing the presentation 
on public grounds. I heard of this, and applied to Mr. Peel for Mac- 
intosh Mackay, whose quiet patience and learning are accompanied by 
a most excellent character as a preacher and a clergyman, but unhap- 
pily Mr. Peel had previously put himself into the hands of Sir George 
Murray, who applied to Sir Peter his brother, who naturally applied to 
certain leaders of the Church at Edinburgh, and these reverend gen- 
tlemen have recommended that the church which the minister de- 
sired to fill up on public grounds should be bestowed on a boy,* the 
nephew of one of their number, of whom the best that can be said is 
that nothing is known, since he has only been a few months in orders. 
This comes of kith, kin, and ally, but Peel shall know of it, and may 
perhaps judge for himself another time. 

June 27. — I came out after Court to Blair Adam, with our excel- 
lent friend the Rev. John Thomson of Duddingston, so modest and 
so accomplished ; — delightful drive and passage at the ferry. We 

1 Patrick James Stevenson was licensed in 1825, and ordained in 1828 Scott's Fasti, vol. vi. 

p. 746. 



410 JOURNAL [June 

found at Blair Adam the C. C. and family, Admiral Adam and lady, 
James Thomson of Charlton, and Miss T.,Will Clerk, and last, not least, 
Lord Chief-Baron Shepherd — all in high spirits for our excursions. 

Thomson described to me a fine dungeon in the old tower at Cas- 
sillis in Ayrshire. There is an outer and inner vaulted [chamber], 
each secured with iron doors. At the upper end of the innermost 
are two great stones or blocks to which the staples and chains used 
in securing the prisoners are still attached. Between these stone 
seats is an opening like the mouth of a still deeper dungeon. The 
entrance descends like the mouth of a draw-well or shaft of a mine, 
and deep below is heard the sullen roar of the river Doon, one branch 
of which, passing through the bottom of the shaft, has probably 
swept away the body of many a captive, whose body after death may 
have been thus summarily disposed of. I may find use for such a 
place — Story of [Kittleclarkie^ 

June 28. — Off we go to Castle Campbell after breakfast, i.e. Will 
Clerk, Admiral Adam, J. Thomson, and myself. Tremendous hot is 
the day, and the steep ascent of the Castle, which rises for two miles 
up a rugged and broken path, was fatiguing enough, yet not so much 
so as the streets in London. Castle Campbell is unaltered ; the win^ 
dow, of which the disjointed stone projects at an angle from the wall, 
and seems at the point of falling, has still found power to resist the 
laws of gravitation. Whoever built that tottering piece of masonry 
has been long in a forgotten grave, and yet what he has made seems 
to survive in spite of nature itself. The curious cleft called Kemp's 
Score, which gave the garrison access to the water in case of siege, 
is obviously natural, but had been improved by steps, now choked 
up. A girl who came with us recollected she had shown me the way 
down to the bottom of this terrible gulf seven years ago. I am not 
able for it now. 

"Wont to do 's awa frae me, 
Frae silly auld John Ochiltree." ^ 

June 29. — Being Sunday we kept about the doors, and after two 
took the drosky and drove over the hill and round by the Kiery 
Craigs. I shoiild have said Williams came out in the morning to ask 
my advice about staying another year in Edinburgh. I advised him 
if possible to gain a few days' time till I should hear from Lockhart. 
He has made a pretty mess for himself, but if the Bishops are wise, 
they may profit by it. The sound, practical advice of Williams at 
the first concoction would be of the last consequence. I suspect 
their systems of eating-houses are the most objectionable part of the 
college discipline. When their attentions are to be given to the de- 
partments of the cook and the butler, all zeal in the nobler paths of 
education is apt to decay. 

1 Ramsay's Tea-table Miscellany (1195), vol.i. p. 125. 



1828.] JOURNAL 411 

Well, to return to the woods. I think, notwithstanding Lord 
Chief-Commissioner's assiduity, they are in some places too thick. I 
saw a fine larch, felled seventy-two years old, value about five pounds. 

Hereditary descent in the Highlands. A clergyman showed J. T. 
the island of Inch Mahome in the Port of Monteith, and pointed out 
the boatman as a remarkable person, the representative of the hered- 
itary gardeners of the Earls of Monteith, while these Earls existed. 
His son, a priggish boy, follows up the theme — " Feyther, when Don- 
ald MacCorkindale dees will not the family be extinct?" Father — 
"No; I believe there is a man in Balquhidder who takes up the suc- 
cession.^^ 

June 30. — We made our pleasant excursion to-day round the hill 
of Bennarty pa?- terre, and returned pa?^ mer. Our route by land led 
us past Lochore, where we made a pause for a few moments. Then 
proceeded to Ballingray or Bingray, and so by Kirkness, where late 
ravages are supplied by the force of vegetation down to the shores 
of Lochleven. We embarked and went upon Saint Serf's Island, sup- 
posed to have been anciently a cell of the Culdees. An old pinfold, 
or rather a modern pinfold, constructed out of the ancient chapel, is 
all that attests its former sanctity. We landed on Queen Mary's Isl-, 
and, a miserable scene, considering the purpose for which the Castle 
was appointed. And yet the captivity and surrender of the Percy 
was even a worse tale, since it was an eternal blight on the name of 
Douglas. Well, we got to Blair Adam in due time, and our fine com- 
pany began to separate, Lord Chief-Baron going off after dinner. 
We had wine and wassail, and John Thomson's delightful flute to 
help us through the evening. 

Thus end the delectations of the Blair Adam Club for this year. 
Mrs. Thomson of Charlton talks of Beaton's House, and other Fife 
wonders for the next year, but who knows what one year may bring 
forth? Our Club has been hitherto fortunate. It has subsisted 
twelve years. 



JULY 

"Up in the morning 's no for me." ^ 

Yet here I am up at five — no horses come from the North Ferry yet. 

" Mr. Mitchell, Mr. Mitchell, 
Your promises and time keep stitch ill." 

July 1, [JEdinhurgli]. — Got home, however, by nine, and went to 
the Parliament House, where we were detained till four o'clock. 

Miss dined with us, a professed lion-huntress, who travels the 

country to rouse the peaceful beasts out of their lair, and insists on 
being hand and glove with all the leonine race. She is very plain, 
besides frightfully red-haired, and out-Lydia-ing even my poor friend 
Lydia White. An awful visitation ! I think I see her with javelin 
raised and buskined foot, a second Diana, roaming the hills of West- 
moreland in quest of the lakers. Would to God she were there or 
anywhere but here ! Affectation is a painful thing to witness, and 
this poor woman has the bad taste to think direct flattery is the way 
to make her advances to friendship and intimacy. 

July 2. — I believe I was cross yesterday. I am at any rate very 
ill to-day with a rheumatic headache, and a still more vile hypochon- 
driacal affection, which fills my head with pain, my heart with sad- 
ness, and my eyes with tears. I do not wonder at the awful feelings 
which visited men less educated and less firm than I may call my- 
self. It is a most hang-dog cast of feeling, but it may be chased 
away by study or by exercise. The last I have always found most 
successful, but the first is most convenient. I wrought therefore, and 
endured all this forenoon, being a Teind Wednesday. I am now in 
such a state that I would hardly be surprised at the worst news which 
could be brought to me. And all this without any rational cause 
why to-day should be sadder than yesterday. 

Two things to lighten my spirits — First, Cadell comes to assure 
me that the stock of 12mo novels is diminished from 3800, which was 
the quantity in the publishers' hands in March 1827, to 600 or 700. 
This argues gallant room for the publication of the New Series. 
Second, said Cadell is setting off straight for London to set affairs 
a-going. If I have success in this, it will greatly assist in extricating 
my affairs. 

1 Buros's Song. 



July, 1828.] JOURNAL 413 

My aches of the heart terminated in a cruel aching of the head — 
rheumatic, I suppose. But Sir Adam and Clerk came to dinner, and 
laughed and talked the sense of pain and oppression away. We can- 
not at times work ourselves into a gay humour, any more than we can 
tickle ourselves into a fit of laughter ; foreign agency is necessary. 
My huntress of lions again dined with us. I have subscribed to her 
Album, and done what was civil. 

July 3. — Corrected proofs in the morning, and wrote a little. I 
was forced to crop vol. i. as thirty pages too long ; there is the less 
to write behind. We were kept late at the Court, and when I came 
out I bethought me, like Christian in the Castle of Giant Despair, 
" Wherefore should I walk along the broiling and stifling streets 
when I have a little key in my bosom which can open any lock in 
Princes Street Walks, and be thus on the Castle banks, rocks, and 
trees in a few minutes ?" I made use of my key accordingly, and 
walked from the Castle Hill down to Wallace's Tower,^ and thence to 
the west end of Princes Street, through a scene of grandeur and 
beauty perhaps unequalled, whether the foreground or distant view is 
considered — all down hill, too. Foolish never to think of this be- 
fore. I chatted with the girls a good while after dinner, but wrote a 
trifle when we had tea. 

July 4. — The two Annes set off to Abbotsford, though the 
weather was somewhat lowering for an open carriage, but the day 
cleared up finely. Hamilton is unwell, so we had a long hearing of 
his on our hands. It was four ere I got home, but I had taken my 
newly discovered path by rock, bush, and ruin. I question if Europe 
has such another path. We owe this to the taste of James Skene. 
But I must dress to go to Dr. Hope's, who makes chhre exquise, and 
does not understand being kept late. 

July 5. — Saturday, corrected proofs and wrought hard. Went 
out to dinner at Oxenfoord Castle, and returned in the company of 
Lord Alio way. Chief Baron, Clerk, etc., and Mr. Bouverie, the English 
Commissioner. 

July 6. — A day of hard work. The second volume is now well 
advanced — wellnigh one half. Dined alone, and pursued my course 
after dinner. Seven pages were finished. Solitude 's a fine thing 
for work, but then you must lie by like a spider, till you collect 
materials to continue your web. Began Simond's Switzerland — 
clever and intelligent, but rather conceited, as the manner of an 
American Frenchman. I hope to knock something out of him 
though. 

July 7. — Williams seems in uncertainty again, and I can't guess 
what he will be at. Surely it is a misery to be so indecisive ; he 
will certainly gain the ill word of both parties and might have had 
the good word of all ; and, indeed, deserves it. We received his res- 

i Now called Wellhouse Tower. 



414 JOURNAL [July, 1828. 

ignation to-day, but if the King's College are disposed to thrive, they 
will keep eyes on this very able man. 

July 8. — Hard work in the Court, the sederunts turn long and 
burthensome. I fear they will require some abridgment of vacation. 

\From July 8, 1828, to January 10, 1829, there are no entries in 
the Journal.^ 



1829.— JANUARY 

Having omitted to carry on my Diary for two or three days, I 
lost heart to make it up, and left it unfilled for maoy a month and 
day. During this period nothing has happened worth particular no- 
tice. The same occupations, the same amusements, the same occa- 
sional alternations of spirits, gay or depressed, the same absence of all 
sensible or rational cause for the one or the other. I half grieve to 
take up my pen, and doubt if it is worth while to record such an in- 
finite quantity of nothing, but hang it ! I hate to be beat, so here goes 
for better behaviour. 

January 10. — I resume my task at Abbotsford. We are here 
alone, except Lockhart, on a flying visit. Morritt, his niece. Sir James 
Stuart, Skene, and an occasional friend or two, have been my guests 
since 31st December. I cannot say I have been happy, for the feel- 
ing of increasing weakness in my lame leg is a great affliction. I 
walk now with pain and diflSculty at all times, and it sinks my soul to 
think how soon I may be altogether a disabled cripple. I am tedious 
to my friends, and I doubt the sense of it makes me fretful. 

Everything else goes off well enough. My cash affairs are clear- 
ing, and though last year was an expensive one, I have been paying 
debt. Yet I have a dull contest before me which will probably out- 
last my life. If well maintained, however, it will be an honourable 
one, and if the Magnum Opus succeed, it will afford me some re- 
pose. 

January 11. — I did not write above a page yesterday; most weary, 
stale, and unprofitable have been my labours. Received a letter I 

suppose from Mad. T. , proposing a string of historical subjects 

not proper for my purpose. People will not consider that a thing 
may already be so well told in history, that romance ought not in 
prudence to meddle with it. 

The ground covered with snow, which, by slipperiness and the 
pain occasioned by my lameness, renders walking unpleasant. 

January 12. — This is the third day I have not walked out, pain 
and lameness being the cause. This bodes very ill for my future life. 
I made a search yesterday and to-day for letters of Lord Byron to 
send to Tom Moore, but I could only find two. I had several others, 
and am shocked at missing them. The one which he sent me with a 
silver cup I regret particularly. It was stolen out of the cup itself 
by some vile inhospitable scoundrel, for a servant would not have 
thought such a theft worth while. 



416 JOURNAL [Jan. 

My spirits are low, yet I wot not why. I have been writing to 
my sons. Walter's majority was like to be reduced, but is spared for 
the present. Charles is going on well I trust at the Foreign Office, 
so I hope all is well. 

Loitered out a useless day, half arranging half disarranging 
books and papers, and packing the things I shall want. Ber Abschied- 
stag ist da. 

January 13. — The day of return to Edinburgh is come. I don't 
know why, but I am more happy at the change than usual. I am not 
working hard, and it is what I ought to do, and must do. Every hour 
of laziness cries fie upon me. But there is a perplexing sinking of 
the heart which one cannot always overcome. At such times I have 
wished myself a clerk, quill-driving for twopence per page. You 
have at least application, and that is all that is necessary, whereas un- 
less your lively faculties are awake and propitious, your application 
will do you as little good as if you strained your sinews to lift Ar- 
thur's Seat. 

.January/ 14, [Edinburgh]. — Got home last night after a freezing 
journey. This morning I got back some of the last copy, and tugged 
as hard as ever did soutar to make ends meet. Then I will be recon- 
ciled to my task, which at present disgusts me. Visited Lady Jane, 
then called on Mr. Robison and instructed him to call a meeting of 
the Council of the Royal Society, as Mr. Knox proposes to read an 
essay on some dissections. A bold proposal truly from one who has 
had so lately the boldness of trading so deep in human flesh ! I will 
oppose his reading in the present circumstances if I should stand 
alone, but I hope he will be wrought upon to withdraw his essay or 
postpone it at least. It is very bad taste to push himself forward 
just now. Lockhart dined with us, which m.ade the evening a pleas- 
ant but an idle one. Well ! I must rouse myself. 

"Awake! Arise, or be for ever fallen."* 

January 15. — Day began with beggars as usual, and John Nicol- 
son has not sense to keep them out. I never yield, however, to this 
importunity, thinking it wrong that what I can spare to meritorious 
poverty, of which I hear and see too much, should be diverted by im- 
pudent importunity. I was detained at the Parliament House till 
nearly three by the great case concerning prescription, Maule v. Maule.'* 
This was made up to me by hearing an excellent opinion from Lord 
Corehouse, with a curious discussion in apicibus juris. I disappoint- 
ed Graham' of a sitting for my picture. I went to the Council of the 

1 Milton's Paradise Lost, Bk. i. the Royal Society of Edinburgh. When the 
oo n • n -* «-c! „„• „„> „•■ e portrait was finished it w.is placed in the Fooms 

2 See Cases m Court of Session, vol. vu. S. ^^^^^ ^^^.^^^^ ^^^^^^ -^ still hangs. The artist 

" ■ retained in his own collection a duplicate, with 

3 John Graham, who afterwards assumed the some slight variations, which his widow pre- 
name of Gilbert; born 1791, died 1866. sented to the National Portrait Gallery, Lon- 

He was at this time painting Sir Walter for don, in 1867- 



1829.] JOURNAL 417 

Royal Society, which was convened at my request, to consider whether 
we ought to hear a paper on anatomical subjects read by Mr. Knox, 
whose name has of late been deeply implicated in a criminal prosecu- 
tion against certain wretches, who had murdered many persons and 
sold their bodies to professors of the anatomical science. Some 
thought that our declining to receive the paper would be a declaration 
unfavourable to Dr. Knox. I think hearing it before Mr. Knox has 
made any defence (as he is stated to have in view) would be an inti- 
mation of our preference of the cause of science to those of morality 
and common humanity. Mr. Knox's friends undertook to deal with 
him about suffering the paper to be omitted for the present, while 
adhuc coram judice lis est.^ 

January 16. — Nothing on the roll to-day, so I did not go to the 
Parliament House, but fagged at my desk till two. Dr. Ross called 
to relieve me of a corn, which, though my lameness needs no addi- 
tion, had tormented me vilely. I again met the Royal Society Coun- 
cil. Dr. Knox consents to withdraw his paper, or rather suffers the 
reading to be postponed. There is some great error in the law on 
the subject. If it was left to itself many bodies would be imported 
from France and Ireland, and doubtless many would be found in our 
hospitals for the service of the anatomical science. But the total and 
severe exclusion of foreign supplies of this kind raises the price of 
the " subjects," as they are called technically, to such a height, that 
wretches are found willing to break into " the bloody house of life,"^ 
merely to supply the anatomists' table. The law which, as a deeper 
sentence on the guilt of murder, declares that the body of the con- 
victed criminal should be given up to anatomy, is certainly not with- 
out effect, for criminals have been known to shrink from that part of 
the sentence which seems to affect them more than the doom of death 
itself, with all its terrors here and hereafter. On the other hand, 
while this idea of the infamy attending the exposition of the person 
is thus recognised by the law, it is impossible to adopt regulations 
which would effectually prevent such horrid crimes as the murder of 

i Sir Walter, in common with the majority was specially directed. But, tried in reference 

of his contemporaries, evidently believed that to tiie invariable and the necessary practice of 

Dr. Robert Knox was partly responsible for the the profession, our anatomists were spotlessly 

West Port atrocities, but it is only just to the correct, and Knox the most correct of them 

memory of the talented anatomist to say that all." 

an independent and influential committee, after At this date Dr. Knox was the most popular 

a careful examination, reported on March 13th, teacher in the Medical School at Edinburgh, 

1829, that there was no evidence showing that and as his classroom could not contain more 

he or his assistants knew that murder had been than a third of his students, he had to deliver 

committed, but the committee thought that his lectures twice or thrice daily. The odium 

more care should have been exercised in the attached to his name might have been removed 

receptionof the bodies at the Anatomical Class- in time had his personal character stood as 

room. high as his professional ability, but though he 

Lord Cockburn, who was one of the counsel remained in Edinburgh until 1841 he never 

at the trial of Burke, in writing of these events, recovered his position there, and for the last 

remarks: "All our anatomists incurred a most twenty years of his life this once brilliant 

unjust and very alarming, though not an un- teacher subsisted as best he could in London 

natural, odium; Dr. Knox in particular, against by his pen, and as an Itinerant lecturer. He 

whom not only the anger of the populace, but died in 1862. 

the condemnation of more intelligent persons, ^ King John, Act iv. Sc 2. 

27 



418 JOURNAL [Jan. 

vagrant wretches wlio can be snatched from society without their be- 
ing missed, as in the case of the late conspiracy. For instance, if it 
was now to be enacted, as seems reasonable, that persons dying in 
hospitals and almshouses, who die without their friends claiming their 
remains, should be given up to the men of science, this would be sub- 
jecting poverty to the penalty of these atrocious criminals whom law 
distinguishes by the heaviest posthumous disgrace which it can in- 
flict. Even cultivated minds revolt from the exposure on an anatom- 
ical table, when the case is supposed to be that of one who is dear to 
them. I should, I am conscious, be willing that I myself should be 
dissected in public, if doing so could produce any advantage to soci- 
ety, but when I think on relations and friends being rent from the 
grave the case is very different, and I would fight knee-deep to pre- 
vent or punish such an exposure. So inconsistent we are all upon 
matters of this nature. 

I dined quietly at home with the girls, and wrote after dinner. 

Januarij 17. — Nothing in the roll ; corrected proofs, and went ofE 
at 12 o'clock in the Hamilton stage to William Lockhart's at Auch- 
inrath. My companions, Mr. Livingstone, the clergyman of Cam- 
nethan, a Bailie Hamilton, the king of trumps, I am told, in the 
Burgh of Hamilton, and a Mr. Davie Martin qui gaudet equis et cani- 
hus. Got to Auchinrath by six, and met Lord Douglas,' his brother, 
Captain Douglas, R.N., John G. Lockhart also, who had a large com- 
munication from Duke of W. upon the subject of the bullion. The 
Duke scouts the economist's ideas about paper credit, after the prop- 
osition that all men shall be entitled to require gold. 

January 18. — We went, the two Lockharts and I, to William's 
new purchase of Milton. We found on his ground a cottage, where 
a man called Greenshields,^ a sensible, powerful-minded person, had 
at twenty-eight (rather too late a week) ^ taken up the art of sculpt- 
ure. He had disposed of the person of the King most admirably, 
according to my poor thoughts, and had attained a wonderful expres- 
sion of ease and majesty at the same time. He was desirous of en- 
gaging on Burns' Jolly Beggars, which I dissuaded. Caricature is 
not the object of sculpture. 

We went to Milton on as fine a day as could consist with snow on 
the ground. The situation is eminently beautiful ; a fine promon- 
tory round which the Clyde makes a magnificent bend. We fixed on 
a situation where the sitting-room should command the upper view, 
and, with an ornamental garden, I think it may be made the prettiest 
place in Scotland. 

January 19. — Posted to Edinburgh with John Lockhart. We 
stopped at Allanton to see a tree transplanted, which was performed 
with great ease. Sir Henry is a sad coxcomb, and lifted beyond the 

1 Archibald, second Lord Douglas, who died See Life, vol. ix. p. 281-288. He died at the 
in 1844. age of forty in ISS."). 

2 John Greenshields, self- taught sculptor 3 As Fou Like It, 4ct ii. Sc. 3. 



1829.] JOURNAL 419 

solid earth by the effect of his book's success. But the book well 
deserves it.' He is in practice particularly anxious to keep the roots 
of the tree near the surface, and only covers them with about a foot 
of earth. 

Note. — Lime rubbish dug in among the roots of ivy encourages it 
much. 

The operation delayed us three hours, so it was seven o'clock be- 
fore we reached our dinner and a good fire in Shandwick Place, and 
we were wellnigh frozen to death. During this excursion I walked 
very ill — with, more pain, in fact, than I ever remember to have felt — 
and, even leaning on John Lockhart, could hardly get on. Baad that^ 
vara baad — it might be the severe weather though, and the numbing 
effect of the sitting in the carriage. Be it what it will, I can't help 
myself. 

January 20. — I had little to do at the Court, and returned home 
soon. Honest old Mr. Ferrier is dead, at extreme old age. I confess 
I should not wish to live so long. He was a man with strong pas- 
sions and strong prejudices, but with generous and manly sentiments 
at the same time. We used to call him TJncle Adam, after that char- 
acter in his gifted daughter's novel of the Heiress [Inheritance]. I 
wrote a long letter after I came home to my Lord Elgin about Green- 
shields, the sculptor.' I am afraid he is going into the burlesque line, 
to which sculpture is peculiarly ill adapted. So I have expressed my 
veto to his patron, valeat quantum. Also a letter to Mrs. Professor 
Sandford at Glasgow about reprinting Macaulay's History of St. Kil- 
da^ advising them to insert the history of Lady Grange who was kid- 
napped and banished thither. 

I corrected my proofs, moreover, and prepared to dine. After 
dinner we go to Euphemia Erskine's marriage. Mr. Dallas came in 
and presented me with an old pedigree of the M'Intoshes. The wed- 
ding took place with the usual April weather of smiles and tears. 
The bridegroom's name is Dawson. As he, as well as the bride, is 
very tall, they have every chance of bringing up a family of giants. 
The bridegroom has an excellent character. He is only a captain, 
but economy does wonders in the army, where there are many facili- 
ties for practising it. I sincerely wish them happiness. 

January 21. — Went out to Dalkeith House to dine and stay all 
night. Found Marquis of Lothian and a family party. I liked the 
sense and spirit displayed by this young nobleman, who reminds me 
strongly of his parents, whom I valued so highly. 

January 22. — Left Dalkeith after breakfast, and gained the Par- 
liament House, where there was almost nothing to do, at eleven 
o'clock. Afterwards sat to Graham, who is making a good thing of 

i Sir Henry Setou Steuart's work on Plant- ' See letter in Life, vol. ix. pp. 281-287. 
ing was reviewed by Scott in the Quarterly. — ' Originally published in London in 8vo, 
See M-ixc. Prose Works, vol. xxi. Sir H. Steu- 1764. This contemplated edition does not ap- 
art died in March, 1836. pear to have been printed. 



420 JOURNAL [Jan. 

it. Mr. Colvin Smith has made a better in one sense, having sold ten 
or twelve copies of the portrait to different friends.^ The Solicitor 
came to dine with me — we drank a bottle of champagne, and two 
bottles of claret, which, in former days, I should have thought a very- 
sober allowance, since, Lockhart included, there were three persons to 
drink it. But I felt I had drunk too much, and was uncomfortable. 
The young men stood it like young men. Skene and his wife and 
daughter looked in in the evening. I suppose I am turning to my 
second childhood, for not only am I filled drunk, or made stupid at 
least, with one bottle of wine, but I am disabled from writing by chil- 
blains on my fingers — a most babyish complaint. They say that the 
character is indicated by the handwriting; if so, mine is crabbed 
enough. 

January 23. — Still severe frost, annoying to sore fingers. Noth- 
ing on the roll. I sat at home and wrote letters to Wilkie, Landseer, 
Mrs. Hughes, Charles, etc. Went out to old Mr. Ferrier's funeral, and 
saw the last duty rendered to my old friend, whose age was 

" Like a lusty winter, 

Frosty, but kindly," 2 

I* mean in a moral as well as a physical sense. I then went to Cadell's 
for some few minutes. 

I carried out Lockhart to Dalkeith, where we dined, supped, and 
returned through a clinking frost, with snow on the ground. Lord 
Ramsay and the Miss Kerrs were at Dalkeith. The Duke shows, for 
so young a man, a great deal of character, and seems to have a proper 
feeling of the part he has to play. The evening was pleasant, but the 
thought that I was now the visitor and friend of the family in the 
third generation lay somewhat heavy on me. Everything around me 
seemed to say that beauty, power, wealth, honour were but things of 
a day. 

January 24. — Heavy fall of snow. Lockhart is off in the mail. 
I hope he will not be blockaded. The day bitter cold. I went to 
the Court, and with great difficulty returned along the slippery street. 
I ought to have taken the carriage, but I have a superstitious dread 
of giving up the habit of walking, and would willingly stick to the 
last by my old hardy customs. 

Little but trifles to do at the Court. My hands are so covered 
with chilblains that I can hardly use a pen — my feet ditto. 

We bowled away at six o'clock to Mr. Wardlaw Ramsay's. Found 
we were a week too early, and went back as if our noses had been 
bleeding. 

January 25. — Worked seriously all morning, expecting the Fer- 
gusons to dinner. Alas ! instead of that, I learn that my poor in- 
nocent friend Mary is no more. She was a person of some odd and 

1 Ante, p. 351 n. 2 As You Like It, Act n. Sc. 3. 



1829.] JOURNAL 421 

peculiar habits, wor6 a singular dress, and affected wild and solitary- 
haunts, but she was, at the same time, a woman of talent, and even 
genius. She used often to take long walks with me up through the 
glens ; and I believe her sincere good wishes attended me, as I was 
always glad of an opportunity to show her kindness. I shall long 
think of her when at Abbotsford. This sad event breaks up our 
little party. Will Clerk came, however, and his tete-a-tete was, of 
course, interesting and amusing in the highest degree. We drank 
some whisky and water, and smoked a cigar or two, till nine at 
night. 

"No after friendships ere can raise 
The endearments of our early days." 

January 26. — I muzzed on — I can call it little better — with Anne 
of Geierstein. The materials are excellent, but the power of using 
them is failing. Yet I wrote out about three pages, sleeping at in- 
tervals. 

January 27. — A great and general thaw, the streets afloat, the 
snow descending on one's head from the roofs. Went to the Court. 
There was little to do. Left about twelve, and took a sitting with 
Graham, who begs for another. Sir James Stuart stood bottle-holder 
on this occasion. Had rather an unfavourable account of the pictures 
of James Stuart of Dunearn, which are to be sold. I had promised 
to pick up one or two for the Duke of Buccleuch. Oame home and 
wrote a leaf or two. I shall be soon done with the second volume of 
Anne of Geierstein. I cannot persuade myself to the obvious risk of 
satisfying the public, although I cannot so well satisfy myself. I am 
like Beaumont and Fletcher's old Merrythought who could not be per- 
suaded that there was a chance of his wanting meat. I never came 
into my parlour, said he, but I found the cloth laid and dinner ready; 
surely it will be always thus. Use makes perfectness.* 

My reflections are of the same kind ; and if they are unlogical 
they are perhaps not the less comfortable. Fretting and struggling 
does no good. Wrote to Miss Margaret Ferguson a letter of condo- 
lence. 

January 28. — Breakfasted, for a wonder, abroad with Hay Drum- 
mond, whose wife appears a pretty and agreeable little woman. We 
worshipped his tutelar deity, the Hercules, and saw a good model of 
the Hercules Bibax, or the drunken Hercules. Graham and Sir James 
Stuart were there. Home-baked bread and soldier's coffee were the 
treat. I came home ; and Sir Robert Dundas having taken my duty 
at the Court, I wrote for some time, but not much. Burke the mur- 
derer hanged this morning. The mob, which was immense, demanded 
Knox and Hare, but though greedy for more victims, received with 
shouts the solitary wretch who found his way to the gallows out of 

1 See Beaumont and Fletcher, Knight of the Burning Pestle, Act i. Sc. 3. 



422 JOURNAL [Jan. 

five or six who seem not less guilty than he. But the story begins 
to be stale, although I believe a doggerel ballad upon it would be 
popular, how brutal soever the wit. This is the progress of human 
passions. We ejaculate, exclaim, hold up to Heaven our hand, like 
the rustic Phidyle' — next morning the mood changes, and we dance 
a jig to the tune which moved us to tears. Mr. Bell sends me a 
specimen of a historical novel, but he goes not the way to write it ; 
he is too general, and not sufficiently minute. It is not easy to con- 
vey this to an author, with the necessary attention to his feelings ; 
and yet, in good faith and sincerity, it must be done. 

January 29. — I had a vacant day once more by the kindness of 
Sir Robert, unasked, but most kindly afforded. I have not employed 
it to much purpose. I wrote six pages to Croker,'* who is busied with 
a new edition of Bosv/ell's Life of Johnson^ to which most entertain- 
ing book he hopes to make large additions from Mrs. Piozzi, Haw- 
kins and other sources. I am bound by many obligations to do as 
much for him as I can, which can only respect the Scottish Tour. 
I wrote only two or three pages of Anne. I am 

" as one who in a darksome way 

Doth walk with fear and dread." 

But walk I must, and walk forward too, or I shall be benighted with 
a vengeance. After dinner, to compromise matters with my con- 
science, I wrote letters to Mr. Bell, Mrs. Hughes, and so forth ; thus 
I concluded the day with a sort of busy idleness. This will not do. 
By cock and pye it will not. 

January 30. — Mr. Stuart breakfasted with me, a grand-nephew of 
Lady Louisa's, a very pleasing young gentleman. The coach sur- 
prised me by not calling. Will it be for the Martyrdom ? I trow it 
will, yet, strange to say, I cannot recollect if it is a regular holiday or 
not. 

" Uprouse ye then, my merry, merry men, 
And use it as ye may." 

I wrote in the morning, and went at one o'clock to a meeting of coun- 
try gentlemen, about bringing the direct road from London down by 
Jedburgh, said to be the nearest line by fifty miles. It is proposed 
the pleasant men of Teviotdale should pay, not only their own share, — 
that is, the expense of making the road through our own country, but 
also the expense of making the road under the Ellsdon Trust in 
Northumberland, where the English would positively do nothing. I 
stated this to the meeting as an act of Quixotry. If it be an advan- 
tage, which, unless to individuals, may be doubted, it is equally one 
to Northumberland as to Roxburgh, therefore I am clear that we 
should go " acquals." 

^ Coelo supinas si tuleris manus 2 This letter, brimful of anecdote, is printed 

Nascente luna, 'jj'^'*=^j^^l'jy'^'^^^3 __^ ^ ^ in Croker's Correspondence, vol. ii. pp. 28-34. 



1829.] JOURNAL 423 

I think I have maybe put a spoke in the wheel. The raising the 
statute labour of Roxburgh to an oppressive extent, to make roads in 
England, is, I think, jimp legal, and will be much complained of by 
the poorer heritors. Henry of Harden dines with me tete-a-tete^ ex- 
cepting the girls. 

January 31. — I thought I had opened a vein this morning and 
that it came freely, but the demands of art have been more than I 
can bear. I corrected proofs before breakfast, went to Court after 
that meal ; was busy till near one o'clock. Then I went to Cadell's, 
where they are preparing to circulate the prospectus of the magnum, 
which will have all the effect of surprise on most people. I sat to 
Mr. Graham till I was quite tired, then went to Lady Jane, who is 
getting better. Then here at four, but fit for nothing but to bring 
up this silly Diary. 

The corpse of the murderer Burke is now lying in state at the 
College, in the anatomical class, and all the world flock to see him. 
Who is he that says that we are not ill to please in our objects of 
curiosity? The strange means by which the wretch made money 
are scarce more disgusting than the eager curiosity with which the 
public have licked up all the carrion details of this business. 

I trifled with my work. I wonder how Johnson set himself dog- 
gedly to it — to a work of imagination it seems quite impossible, and 
one's brain is at times fairly addled. And yet I have felt times when 
sudden and strong exertion would throw ofi all this mistiness of mind, 
as a north wind would disperse it. 

" Blow, blow, thou northern wind." * 

Nothing more than about two or three pages. I went to the Parlia- 
ment House to-day, but had little to do. I sat to Mr. Graham the 
last time. Heaven be praised ! If I be not known in another age, it 
will not be for want of pictures. We dined with Mr. Wardlaw Ram- 
say and Lady Anne — a fine family. There was little done in the 
way of work except correcting proofs. The bile affects me, and 
makes me vilely drowsy when I should be most awake. Met at Mr. 
Wardlaw's several people I did not know. Looked over Cumnor 
Hall by Mr. Usher Tighe of Oxford. I see from the inscription on 
Tony Foster's tomb that he was a skilful planter, amongst other fash- 
ionable accomplishments. 

1 As You Like It Act ii. Sc. 7. 



FEBRUARY 

February 1. — Domum mansi, lanam feci^ — stayed at home videli- 
cet, and laboured without interruption except from intolerable drowsi- 
ness ; finished eight leaves, however, the best day's work I have made 
this long time. No interruption, and I got pleased with my work, 
which ends the second volume of Anne of Geierstein. After dinner 
had a letter from Lockhart, with happy tidings about the probability 
of the commission on the Stewart papers being dissolved. The Duke 
of W. says commissions never either did or will do any good. John 
will in that case be sole editor of these papers with an apartment 
at St. James's cum plurimis aliis. It will be a grand coup if it takes 
place. 

February 2. — Sent oS yesterday's work with proofs. Could I do 
as toughly for a week — and many a day I have done more — I should 
be soon out of the scrape. I wrote letters, and put over the day till 
one, when I went down with Sir James Stuart to see Stuart of Dun- 
earn's pictures now on sale. I did not see much which my poor taste 
covets ; a Hobbema much admired is, I think, as tame a piece of 
work as I ever saw. I promised to try to get a good picture or two 
for the young Duke. 

Dined with the old Club, instituted forty years ago. There were 
present Lord Justice-Clerk, Lord Advocate, Sir Peter Murray, John 
Irving, William Clerk, and I. It was a party such as the meeting of 
fellow scholars and fellow students alone could occasion. We told 
old stories ; laughed and quaffed, and resolved, rashly perhaps, that 
we would hold the Club at least once a year, if possible twice. We 
will see how this will fudge. Our mirth was more unexpected as Sir 
Adam, our first fiddle, was wanting, owing to his family loss. 

February 3. — Rose at eight — felt my revel a little in my head. 
The Court business light, returned by Cadell, and made one or two 
calls, at Skene's especially. Dinner and evening at home ; laboriously 
employed. 

February 4. — To-day I was free from duty, and made good use of 
my leisure at home, finishing the second volume of Anne, and writing 
several letters, one to recommend Captain Pringle to Lord Beresford, 
which I send to-morrow through Morritt. " My mother whips me 
and I whip the top." The girls went to the play. 

February 5. — Attended the Court as usual, got dismissed about 
one. Finished and sent off volume ii. of Anne. Dined with Robert 
Rutherford, my cousin, and the whole clan of Swinton. 



Feb. 1829.] JOURNAL 425 

February 6. — Corrected proofs in the morning, then to the Court; 
thence to Cadell's, where I found some business cut out for me, in 
the way of notes, which delayed me. Walked home, the weary way 
giving my feet the ancient twinges of agony : such a journey is as 
severe a penance as if I had walked the same length with peas in my 
shoes to atone for some horrible crime by beating my toes into a jelly. 
I wrote some and corrected a good deal. We dined alone, and I 
partly wrought partly slept in the evening. It 's now pretty clear that 
the Duke of W. intends to have a Catholic Bill.* He probably ex- 
pects to neutralise and divide the Catholic body by bringing a few 
into Parliament, where they will probably be tractable enough, rather 
than a large proportion of them rioting in Ireland, where they will be 
to a certain degree unanimous. 

February V. — Up and wrought a little. I had at breakfast a son 
of Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, a very quick, smart-looking young fellow, 
who is on his way to the Continent with a tutor. Dined at Mrs. 
George Swinton's with the whole clan. 

February 8. — I wrought the whole day and finished about six 
pages of manuscript of vol. iii. [Anne of Geierstein'\. Sat cito si sat 
bene. The Skenes came in to supper like the olden world. 

February 9. — Was up in good time (say half-past seven), and em- 
ployed the morning in correcting proofs. At twelve I went to Stuart 
of Dunearn's sale of pictures. This poor man fell, like myself, a 

» Sir Walter had written to Mr. Lockhart on in the D. As Bruce said to the Lord of the 

October 26th, 1828, on hearing of an impending Isles at Bannockburn, 'My faith is constant in 

article in the Quarterly, the following letter: — thee.' Now a hurly-burly charge may derange 

"I cannot repress the strong desire I have his line of battle, and therein be of the most 
to express my regret at some parts of your kind fatal consequence. For God's sake avail your- 
letter just received. I shall lament most truly self of the communication I opened while in 
a pwpie article at this moment, when a strong, town, and do not act without it. Send this 
plain, moderate statement, not railing at Cath- to the D. of W. If you will, he will appre- 
olics and their religion, but reprobating the elate the motives that dictate it. If he ap- 
conduct of the Irish Catholics, and pointing proves of a calm, moderate, but firm state- 
out the necessary efiects which that conduct ment, stating the unreasonable course pursued 
must have on the Catholic Question, would by the Catholics as the great impediment to 
have a powerful effect, and might really serve their own wishes, write such an article your- 
king and country. Nothing the agitators de- self; no one can make a more impressive ap- 
sire so much as to render the broil general, as peal to common sense than you can. 
a quarrel between Catholic and Protestant; "The circumstances of the times are — must 
nothing so essential to the Protestant cause as be — an apology for disappointing Southey. 
to conflne it to its real causes. Southey, as But nothing can be an apology for indulging 
much a fanatic as e'er a Catholic of them all, him at the expense of aggravating public dis- 
will, I fear, pass this most necessary landmark turbance, which, for one, I see with great ap- 
of debate. I like his person, admire his genius, prehension. 

and respect his Immense erudition, but— non "It has not yet come our length; those [to] 

omnia. In point of reasoning and political whom you allude ought certainly to be served, 

judgment he is a perfect Harpado — nothing but the D. is best judge how they may be best 

better than a wild bull. The circumstances served. If the D. says nothing on the subject 

require the interference of vir gravis pieiate et you can slip your Derwentwater greyhound if 

moribus, and you bring it a Highland piper to you like. I write hastily, but most anxiously. 

blow a Highland charge, the more mischievous ... I repeat that I think it possible to put the 

that it possesses much wild power of inflaming Catholic Question as it now stands in alight 

the passions. which the most zealous of their supporters in 

"Your idea that you must give Southey his this country cannot but consider as fair, while 

swing in this matter or he will quit the Re- the result would be that the Question should 

view, — this is just a pilot saying. If I do not not be granted at all under such guarantees; 

give the helm to such a passenger he will quit but I think this is scarce to be done by inflam- 

the ship. Let him quit and be d— d. ing the topic with all mutual virulence of po- 

"My own confidence is, you know, entirely lemical discussion." 



426 JOURNAL [Feb. 

victim to speculation. And thougli I had no knowledge of him per- 
sonally, and disliked him as the cause of poor Sir Alexander Bos- 
well's death, yet " had he been slaughterman to all my kin," ^ I could 
but pity the miserable sight of his splendid establishment broken up, 
and his treasures of art exposed to public and unsparing sale. I 
wanted a picture of the Earl of Rothes for the Duke of Buccleuch, a 
fine Sir Joshua, but Balfour of Balbirnie fancied it also, and followed 
it to 160 guineas. Charles Sharpe's account is, that I may think my- 
self in luck, for the face has been repainted. There is, he says, a 
print taken from the picture at Leslie House which has quite a differ- 
ent countenance from the present. 

This job, however, took me up the whole morning to little pur- 
pose. Captain and Mrs. Hall dined with us, also Sir James Stuart, 
Charles Sharpe, John Scott of Gala, etc. 

February 10. — I was up at seven this morning, and will continue 
the practice, but the shoal of proofs took up all my leisure. I will 
not, I think, go after these second-rate pictures again to-day. If I 
could get a quiet day or two I would make a deep dint in the third 
volume ; but hashed and smashed as my time is, who can make any- 
thing of it ? I read over Henry's History of Henry vi. and Ed- 
ward IV. ; he is but a stupid historian after all. This took me up the 
whole day. 

February 11. — Up as usual and wrought at proofs. Mr. Hay 
Drummond and Macintosh Mackay dined. The last brought me his 
history of the Blara Leine or White Battle (battle of the shirts). To 
the Court, and remained there till two, when we had some awkward 
business in the Council of the Royal Society. 

February 12. — W. Lockhart came to breakfast, full of plans for 
his house, which will make a pretty and romantic habitation. After 
breakfast the Court claimed its vassal. 

As I came out Mr. Chambers introduced a pretty little romantic 
girl to me who possessed a laudable zeal to know a live poet. I went 
with my fair admirer as far as the new rooms on the Mound, where I 
looked into the Royal Society's Rooms, then into the Exhibition, in 
mere unwillingness to work and desire to dawdle away time. Learn- 
ed that Lord Haddington had bought the Sir Joshua. I wrought 
hard to-day and made out five pages. 

February 13. — This morning Col. Hunter Blair breakfasted here 
with his wife, a very pretty woman, with a good deal of pleasant con- 
versation. She had been in India, and had looked about her to pur- 
pose. I wrote for several hours in the forenoon, but was nervous and 
drumlie ; also I bothered myself about geography ; in short, there was 
trouble, as miners say when the vein of metal is interrupted. Went 
out at two, and walked, thank God, better than in the winter, which 
gives me hopes that the failure of the unfortunate limb is only tem- 

» Henry VI., Act i. Sc. 4. 



1829.] JOURNAL 421 

porary, owing to severe weather. We dined at John Murray's with 
the Mansfield family. Lady Caroline Murray possesses, I think, the 
most pleasing taste for music, and is the best singer I ever heard. 
No temptation to display a very brilliant voice ever leads her aside 
from truth and simplicity, and besides, she looks beautiful when she 
sings. 

February 14. — Wrote in the morning, which begins to be a regu- 
lar act of duty. It was late ere I got home, and I did not do much. 
The letters I received were numerous and craved answers, yet the 
third volume is getting on hooly and fairly. I am twenty leaves be- 
fore the printers ; but Ballantyne's wife is ill, and it is his nature to 
indulge apprehensions of the worst, which incapacitates him for la- 
bour. I cannot help regarding this amiable weakness of the mind 
with something too nearly allied to contempt. I keep the press be- 
hind me at a good distance, and I, like the 

"Postboy's horse, am glad to miss 
The lumber of the wheels." ' 

February 15. — I wrought to-day, but not much — rather dawdled, 
and took to reading Chambers's Beauties of Scotland,^ which would 
be admirable if they were more accurate. He is a clever young fel- 
low, but hurts himself by too much haste. I am not making too 
much myself I know, and I know, too, it is time I were making it. 
Unhappily there is such a thing as more haste and less speed. I can 
very seldom think to purpose by lying perfectly idle, but when I take 
an idle book, or a walk, my mind strays back to its task out of con- 
tradiction as it were ; the things I read become mingled with those I 
have been writing, and something is concocted. I cannot compare 
this process of the mind to anything save that of a woman to whom 
the mechanical operation of spinning serves as a running bass to the 
songs she sings, or the course of ideas she pursues. The phrase 
Hoc age, often quoted by my father, does not jump with my humour. 
I cannot nail my mind to one subject of contemplation, and it is by 
nourishing two trains of ideas that I can bring one into order. 

Colin Mackenzie came in to see me, poor fellow. He looks well 
in his retirement. Partly I envy him — partly I am better pleased as 
it is. 

February 16. — Stayed at home and laboured all the forenoon. 
Young Invernahyle called to bid me interest myself about getting a 
lad of the house of Scott a commission — how is this possible ? The 
last I tried for, there was about 3000 on the list — and they say the 
boy is too old, being twenty-four. I scribbled three or four pages, 
forbore smoking and whisky and water, and went to the Royal So- 
ciety. There Sir William Hamilton read an essay, the result of some 

1 John Gilpin. bers, author of Traditions of Edinburgh, etc., 

2 The Picture of Scotland by Robert Cham- 8vo, 1829. 



428 JOL^RNAL [Feb. 

anatomical investigations, which contained a masked battery against 
the phrenologists. 

February 17. — In the morning I sent off copy and proof. I re- 
ceived the melancholy news that James Ballantyne has lost his wife. 
With his domestic habits the blow is irretrievable. A\Tiat can he do, 
poor fellow, at the head of such a family of children ! I should not 
be surprised if he were to give way to despair. 

I was at the Court, where there was little to do, but it diddled 
away my time till two. I went to the library, but not a book could 
I get to look at. It is, I think, a wrong system the lending books to 
private houses at all, and leads to immense annual losses. I called 
on Skene, and borrowed a volume of his Journal, to get some infor- 
mation about Burgundy and Provence. Something may be made out 
of King Rene, but I wish I had thought of him sooner.^ Dined alone 
with the girls. 

February 18. — This being Teind Wednesday I had a holiday. 
Worked the whole day, interrupted by calls from Dr. Ross, Sir Hugh 
Palliser, Sir David Hunter Blair, and Colonel Blair. I made out about 
six pages before dinner, and go to Lord Gillies's to dine with a good 
conscience. Hay Drummond came in, and discharged a volley at me 
which Mons Meg could hardly have equalled. I will go to work with 
Skene's Journal. My head aches violently, and has done so several 
days. It is cold, I think. 

At Lord Gillies's we found Sir John Dalrymple, Lady Dalrymple, 
and Miss Ferguson, Mr. Hope Vere of Craigiehall, and Lady Eliza- 
beth, a sister of Lord Tweeddale, Sir Robert O'Callaghan, Captain 
Cathcart, and others — a gay party. 

February 19. — An execrable day — half frost, half fresh, half sleet, 
half rain, and wholly abominable. Having made up my packet for 
the printing-house, and performed my duty at the Court, I had the 
firmness to walk round by the North Bridge, and face the weather 
for two miles, by way of exercise. Called on Skene, and saw some 
of his drawings of Aix. It was near two before I got home, and now 
I hear three strike ; part of this hour has been consumed in a sound 
sleep by the fireside after putting on dry things. I met Baron Hume,' 

1 Mr. Skene remarks that at this time "Sir which were admirably suited to Sir Walter's 

Walter was engaged in the composition of the graphic style of illustration, and that he could 

Novel of ^nne of Geierstein, for which purpose besides introduce the ceremonies of the Fete 

he wished to see a paper which I had some Z>iew with great advantage, as I had fortunately 

time before contributed to the Memoirs of the seen its revival the first time it was celebrated 

Society of Antiquaries on the subject of the after the interruption of the revolution. He 

Secret Tribunals of Germany, and upon which, liked the idea much, and, accordingly, a Jour- 

accordingly, he grounded the scene in the nov- nal which I had written during my residence 

el. Upon his describing to me the scheme in Provence, with a volume of accompanying 

which he had formed for that work, I suggest- drawings and Papon's History of Provence was 

ed to him that he might with advantage con- forthwith sent for, and the whole denouement 

nect the history of Rene, king of Provence, of the story of .4 nne o/Geiej-sfein was changed, 

which would lead to many interesting topo- and the Provence part woven into it, in the 

graphical details which my residence in that form in which it ultimately came forth.— Eem- 

couutry would enable me to supply, besides inisccnces. 

the opportunity of illustrating so eccentric a 2 This learned gentleman died in his house, 

character as '/c bon rot Rene,^ full of traits 34 Moray Place, Edinburgh, on the 30th Au- 



1829.] JOURNAL 429 

and we praised each other's hardihood for daring to take exercise in 
such weather, agreeing that if a man relax the custom of his exercise 
in Scotland for a bad day he is not likely to resume it in a hurry. 
The other moiety of the time was employed in looking over the 
Memoires de Fauche-Borel,' 

February 20. — The Court duly took me up from eleven till about 
three, but left some time for labour, which I employed to purpose, 
at least I hope so. I declined going to the exhibition of paintings 
to-night ; neither the beauties of art nor of nature have their former 
charms for me. I finished, however, about seven pages of manuscript, 
which is a fair half of volume iii. I wish I could command a little 
more time and I would soon find you something or other, but the 
plague is that time is wanting when I feel an aptitude to work, and 
when time abounds, the will, at least the real efiicient power of the 
faculties, is awanting. Still, however, we make way by degrees. I 
glanced over some metrical romances published by Hartshorne, sev- 
eral of which have not seen the light. They are considerably curi- 
ous, but I was surprised to see them mingled with Blanchefieur and 
Flores and one or two others which might have been spared. There 
is no great display of notes or prolegomena, and there is, moreover, 
no glossary. But the work is well edited.^ 

February 21. — Colonel Ferguson breakfasted with us. I was de- 
tained at the Parliament House till the hour of poor Mrs. Ballantyne's 
funeral, then attended that melancholy ceremony. The husband was 
unable to appear ; the sight of the poor children was piteous enough. 
James Ballantyne has taken his brother Sandy into the house, I mean 
the firm, about which there had formerly been some misunderstand- 
ing. 

I attended the Bannatyne Club. We made a very good election, 
bringing in Lord Dalhousie and the Lord Clerk Register.' Our din- 
ner went pretty well off, but I have seen it merrier. To be sure old 
Dr. J., like an immense feather-bed, was burking me, as the phrase 
now goes, during the whole time. I am sure that word will stick in 
the language for one while. 

February 22. — Very rheumatic. I e'en turned my table to the 
fire and feagued it away, as Bayes says. Neither did I so much as 
cast my eyes round to see what sort of a day it was — the splashing 
on the windows gave all information that was necessary. Yet, with 

gust, 1838, aged eighty-two. He had filled va- i Published in four volumes, 8vo, 1829. 

rious important situations with great ability Fauche-Borel, an agent of the Bourbons, had 

during his long life:— Sheriflf of Berwick and just died. The book is still in the Abbotsford 

West Lothian, Professor of Scots Law in the library. 
University, and afterwards a Baron of Excheq- 

lfl^^lt}^T.lf^'''^.''f}V^l\ l'.l±'S _\4-cient Metrical Tales, edited by Rev. C. 



H. Hartshorne. Bvo, London, 1829. 



of the court in 1830. He is best remembered 

by his work on the Criminal Law of Scotland, 

published in 1797. He bequeathed his uncle 

the historian's correspondence with Rousseau ^ The Right Hon. William Duudas, born 1762, 

and other distinguished foreigners to the Royal died 1845; appointed Lord Clerk Register in 

Society of Edinburgh. 1821. 



430 JOUKNAL , [Feb. 

all my leisure, during the whole day I finished only four leaves of 
copy — somewhat of the least, master Matthew.* 

There was no interruption during the whole day, though the above 
is a poor account of it. 

February 23. — Up and at it. After breakfast Mr. Hay Drum- 
mond came in enchanted about Mons Meg,'* and roaring as loud as 
she could have done for her life when she was in perfect voice. 

James Ballantyne came in, to my surprise, about twelve o'clock. 
He was very serious, and spoke as if he had some idea of sudden 
and speedy death. He mentioned that he had named Cadell, Cowan, 
young Hughes, and his brother to be his trustees with myself. He 
has settled to go to the country, poor fellow, to Timpendean, as I think. 

We dined at Skene's, where we met Mr. and Mrs. George Forbes, 
Colonel and Mrs. Blair, George Bell, etc. The party was a pleasant 
one. Colonel Blair said, that during the Battle of Waterloo there 
was at the commencement some trouble necessary to prevent the 
men from breaking their ranks. He expostulated with one man : 
"Why, my good fellow, you cannot propose to beat the French alone? 
— better keep your ranks." The man, who was one of the 71st, re- 
turned to his ranks, saying, " I believe you are very right, sir, but I 
am a man of very hot temper^ There was much bonhomie in the reply. 

February 24. — Snowy miserable morning. I corrected my proofs, 
but had no time to write anything. We, i.e. myself and the two 
Annes, went to breakfast with Mr. Drummond Hay, where we again 
met Colonel and Mrs. Blair, with Thomas Thomson. We looked over 
some most beautiful drawings^ which Mrs. Blair had made in differ- 
ent parts of India, exhibiting a species of architecture so gorgeous, 
and on a scale so extensive, as to put to shame the magnificence of 
Europe. And yet, in most cases, as little is known of the people 
who wrought these wonders as of the kings who built the Pyramids. 
Fame depends on literature, not on architecture. We are more eager 
to see a broken column of Cicero's villa, than all those mighty la- 
bours of barbaric power. Mrs. Blair is full of enthusiasm. She told 
me that when she worked with her pencil she was glad to have some 
one t,o read to her as a sort of sedative, otherwise her excitement 
made her tremble, and burst out a-crying. I can understand this 
very well, having often found the necessity of doing two things at 
once. She is a very pretty, dark woman too, and has been compared 
to Rebecca, daughter of the Jew, Isaac of York. 

Detained m the Court till half-past two bothering about Lady 
Essex Kerr's will without coming to a conclusion. I then got home 
too late to do anything, as I must prepare to go to Dalmahoy, Mr. 
Gibson came in for a little while ; no news. 

1 Ben Jonson, Every Man in his Humour, 3 Some of these fine drawings have been en- 
Art I. Sc. 4. graved for Colonel Tods Travels in Western 

2 For notices of this gigantic cannon, see India. Lond. 4to, 1839.— J. g. l. 
ante, \x 28, and post, p. 436; also Life, voL vii. 

pp. 8G, 87. 



1829.] JOURNAL 431 

I went to Dalmahoy, where we were most kindly received. It is 
a point of friendship, however, to go eight miles to dinner and return 
in the evening ; and my day has been cut up without a brush of 
work. Smoked a cigar on my return, being very cold. 

February 25. — This morning I corrected my proofs. We get on, 
as John Ferguson said when they put him on a hunter. I fear there 
is too much historical detail, and the catastrophe will be vilely hud- 
dled up. "And who can help it, Dick?" Visited James Ballantyne, 
and found him bearing his distress sensibly and like a man. I called 
in at Cadell's, and also inquired after Lady Jane Stuart, who is com- 
plaining. Three o'clock placed me at home, and from that hour till 
ten, deduct two hours for dinner, I was feaguing it away. 

February 26. — Sent oS ten pages this morning, with a revise ; we 
spy land, but how to get my catastrophe packed into the compass al- 
lotted for it — 

"It sticks like a pistol half out of its holster, 
Or rather indeed like an obstinate bolster, 
Which I think I have seen you attempting, my dear, 
In vain to cram into a small pillowbeer." 

There is no help for it — I must make a tour de force, and annihilate 
both time and space. Dined at home ; nevertheless made small prog- 
ress. But I must prepare my dough before I can light my oven. I 
would fain think I am in the right road. 

February 27. — The last post brought a letter from Mr. Heath, 
proposing to set off his engravings for the Magnum Opus against 
my contributions for the Keepsake. A pretty mode of accounting 

that would be ; he be . I wrote him declining his prop©sal ; and, 

as he says I am still in his debt, I will send him the old drama of the 
House of Aspen, ^hioh. I wrote some thirty years ago, and offered to 
the stage. This v/ill make up my contribution, and a good deal 
more, if, as I recollect, there are five acts. Besides, it will save me 
further trouble about Heath and his Annual. Secondly, There are 
several manuscript copies of the play abroad, and some of them will 
be popping out one of these days in a contraband manner. Thirdly, 
If I am right as to the length of the piece, there is £100 extra work 
at least which will not be inconvenient at all. 

Dined at Sir John Hay's with Ramsay of Barnton and his young 
bride. Sir David and Lady Hunter Blair, etc. 

I should mention that Cadell breakfasted with me, and entirely 
approved of my rejecting Heath's letter. There was one funny part 
of it, in which he assured me that the success of the new edition of 
the Waverley Novels depended entirely on the excellence of the illus- 
trations — vous etes joaillier, Mons, Josse.^ He touches a point which 
alarms me ; he greatly undervalues the portrait which Wilkie has 

1 Moli^re, L'' Amour Medecin, Act i. Sc. 1 (joaillier for orfevre). 



432 JOURNAL [Feb. 1829. 

prepared to give me for this edition. If it is as little of a likeness 
as he says, it is a scrape. But a scrape be it. Wilkie behaved in 
the kindest way, considering his very bad health, in agreeing to work 
for me at all, and I will treat him with due delicacy, and not wound 
his feelings by rejecting what he has given in such kindness.^ And 
so farewell to Mr. Heath, and the conceited vulgar Cockney his 
Editor. 

February 28. — Finished my proofs this morning, and read part 
of a curious work, called Memoirs of Vidocq ; a fellow who was at 
the head of Bonaparte's police. It is a pickaresque tale ; in other 
words, a romance of roguery. The whole seems much exaggerated, 
and got up ; but I suppose there is truth au fond. I came home 
about two o'clock, and wrought hard and fast till night. 

1 The following extract from a letter by Wil- sist in the illustrations of the great work, which 

kie shows how willingly he had responded to we all hope may lighten or remove that load of 

Scott's request: — troubles b}' which your noble spirit is at this 

7 Tebrack, Kensington, time beset; considering it as only repaying a 

London, Jan. 18'.^9. debt of Obligation which you yourself have laid 

" Dear Sir Walter, — I pass over all those upon me when, with an unseen hand in the vln- 

disastrous events that have arrived to us both tiquary, you took me up and claimed me, the 

since our last, as you justly call it, melancholy humble painter of domestic sorrow, as your 

parting, to assure you how delighted I shall be countryman." 
if I can in the most inconsiderable degree as- 



MARCH 

March 1. — I laboured hard the whole day, and, between hands, 
refreshed myself with Vidocq's Memoirs. No one called except Hay 
Drummond, who had something to say about Mons Meg. So I wrote 
before and after dinner, till no less than ten pages were finished. 

March 2. — I wrought but little to-day. I was not in the vein, 
and felt sleepy. I thought to go out, but disgust of the pavement 
kept me at home, rus, etc. It is pleasant to think that the 11th 
March sets us on the route for Abbotsf ord. I shall be done long be- 
fore with this confounded novel. I wish I were, for I find trouble in 
bringing it to a conclusion. People compliment me sometimes on 
the extent of my labour ; but if I could employ to ^purpose the hours 
that indolence and lassitude steal away from me, they would have 
cause to wonder indeed. But day must have night, vigilance must 
have sleep, and labour, bodily or mental, must have rest. As Edgar 
says, I cannot fool it further.' Anne is gone to Hopetoun House for 
two days. 

Dined at the Royal Society Club, and went to the Society in the 
evening. 

March 3. — Began this day with labour as usual, and made up my 
packet. Then to the Court, where there is a deal of business. Ham- 
ilton, having now a serious fit of the gout, is not expected to aid any 
more this season. I wrote a little both before and after dinner. 
Niece Anne and I dined alone. Three poets called, each bawling 
louder than the other — subscribe, subscribe ! I generally do, if the 
work be under 10s.; but the wares were every one so much worse 
than another, that I declined in the three instances before me. I 
got cross at the repeated demands, and could have used Richard's 
apology — 

*' Thou troubl'st me : I am not in the vein." ^ 

March 4. — Being Teind Wednesday, I settled myself at my desk 
and laboured the whole forenoon. Got on to page seventy-two, so 
there cannot be more than twenty pages wanted. Mr. Drummond 
Hay, who has an alertness in making business out of nothing, came 
to call once more about Mons Meg. He is a good-humoured gentle- 
manlike man, but I would Meg were in his belly or he in hers. Will- 
iam Laidlaw also called, whom I asked to dinner. At four o'clock 



1 See Lear, Act iv. Sc. 1. 2 Eichard III., Act iv. Sc. 2. 

28 



434 JOURNAL [March 

arrives Mr. Cadell, witli his horn charged with good news. The 
prospectus of the Magnum, already issued only a week, has produced 
such a demand among the trade, that he thinks he must add a large 
number of copies, that the present edition of VOOO may be increased 
to the demand ; he talks of raising it to 10,000 or 12,000. If so, I 
shall have a constant income to bear on my unfortunate debts to a 
large amount yearly, and may fairly hope to put them in a secure way 
of payment, even if I should be cut off in life, or in health, and the 
power of labour. I hope to be able, in a year or two, to make pro- 
posals for eating with my own spoons, and using my own books, 
which, if I can give value for them, can hardly, I think, be refused to 
me.^ In the meantime I have enough, and something to bequeath to 
my poor children. This is a great mercy, but I must prepare for dis- 
appointment, and I will not be elated. 

Laidlaw dined with me, and, poor fellow, was as much elated with 
the news as I am, for it is not of a nature to be kept secret. I hope 
I shall have him once more at Kaeside to debate, as we used to do, on 
religion and politics. Meanwhile, patience, cousin, and shuffle the cards. 

I must do what I can to get Cadell's discharge from his creditors ; 
this I have always done, and so far effectually, but it would be most 
inconvenient to be at the mercy of creditors who may at any moment 
make inquiry into his affairs and so stop his operations. The Old 
Bank of Scotland are the only parties whose consent has not been 
obtained to his discharge, and they must see their interest in consent- 
ing to it for the expediting of my affairs ; since to what purpose op- 
pose it, for they have not the least chance of mending their own by 
refusing it. 

March 5. — Proofs arranged in the morning. Sir Patrick Walker, 
that Solomon the second, came to propose to me that some benefit 
society, which he patronises, should attend upon Mons Meg; but, 
with the Celts at my disposal, I have every reason to think they would 
be affronted at being marched along with Sir Peter and his tail of 
trades' lads. I went to the Court, which detained me till two, then to 
poor old Lady Seaforth's funeral,^ which was numerously attended. 
It was near four ere I got home, bringing Skene with me. We called 
at Cadell's ; the edition of the Magnum is raised from 7000 to 10,000. 
There will really be a clearance in a year or two if R. C. is not too 
sanguine. I never saw so much reason for indulging hope. By the 
bye, I am admitted a member of the Maitland Club, a Society on the 
principle of the Roxburghe and Bannatyne. What a tail of the al- 
phabet I should draw after me were I to sign with the indications of 
the different societies I belong to, beginning with President of the 
Royal Society of Edinburgh, and ended with umpire of the Six-foot- 
high Club !' Dined at home, and in quiet, with the girls. 

1 See letter to George Forbes from Sir Wal- of Kintail, and mother of the Hon. Mrs. Stewart 

ter, dated Dec. 18th, 1830. — Life, vol. x. pp. Mackenzie. 
19, 20. 3 A sportive association of young athletes. 

3 Widow of Francis, Lord Seaforth, last Baron Hogg, I think, was their Toet Laureate.— j. G. u 



1829.] JOURNAL 435 

March 6. — Made some considerable additions to the Appendix to 
General Preface. I am in the sentiments towards the public that the 
buffoon player expresses towards his patron — 

"Go tell my young lord, said this modest young man, 
If he will but invite me to dinner, 
I'll be as diverting as ever I can — 
I will, on the faith of a sinner." 

I will -multiply the notes, therefore, when there is a chance of giving 
pleasure and variety. There is a stronger gleam of hope on my af- 
fairs than has yet touched on them ; it is not steady or certain, but 
it is bright and conspicuous. Ten years may last with me, though I 
have little chance of it. At the end of this time these works will 
have operated a clearance of debt, especially as Cadell offers to ac- 
commodate with such money as their house can save to pay off what 
presses. I hope to save, rather than otherwise, and if I leave my lit- 
erary property to my children, it will make a very good thing for 
them, and Abbotsford must in any event go to my family, so, on the 
whole, I have only to pray for quiet times, for how can men mind 
their serious business — that is, according to Cadell's views — buying 
Waverley Novels when they are going mad about the Catholic ques- 
tion. Dined at Mr. Nairne's, where there was a great meeting of 
Bannatynians, rather too numerous, being on the part of our host an 
Election dinner. 

March 7. — Sent away proofs. This extrication of my affairs, 
though only a Pisgah prospect, occupies my mind more than is fitting ; 
but without some such hope I must have felt like one of the victims 
of the wretch Burke, struggling against a smothering weight on my 
bosom, till nature could endure it no longer. No; I will not be the 
sport of circumstances. Come of it what will, " I'll bend my brows 
like Highland trows " and make a bold fight of it. 

" The best o't, the warst o't, 
Is only just to die."' 

And die I think I shall, though I am not such a coward as mortem 
conscire me ipso. But I 'gin to grow aweary of the sun, and when the 
plant no longer receives nourishment from light and air, there is a 
speedy prospect of its withering. 

Dined with the Banking Club of Scotland, in virtue of Sir Mala- 
chi Malagrowther ; splendid entertainment, of course. Sir John Hay 
in the chair. 

March 8. — Spent the morning in reading proofs and additions to 
Magnum. I got a note from Cadell, in ^vhich Ballantyne, by a letter 
enclosed, totally condemns Anne of Geierstein — three volumes nearly 

1 Mair spier na, no fear na, 
Auld age ne'er mind a feg ; 
The last o't, the wsrst o't, 
Is only for to beg.— Burns's Up. to Dctvie. 



436 ^ JOURNAL [March 

finished — a pretty thing, truly, for I will be expected to do it all over 
again. Great dishonour in this, as Trinculo says,^ besides an infinite 
loss. Sent for Cadell to attend me next morning that we may con- 
sult about this business. Peel has made his motion on the Catholic 
question, with a speech of three hours. It is almost a complete sur- 
render to the Catholics, and so it should be, for half measures do but 
linger out the feud. This will, or rather ought to, satisfy all men who 
sincerely love peace, and therefore all men of property. But will this 
satisfy Pat, who, with all his virtues, is certainly not the most sensible 
person in the world ? Perhaps not ; and if not, it is but fighting them 
at last. I smoked away, and thought of ticklish politics and bad 
novels. Skene supped with us. 

March 9. — :Cadell came to breakfast. We resolved in Privy 

Council to refer the question whether Anne of G n be sea-worthy 

or not to further consideration, which, as the book cannot be pub- 
lished, at any rate, during the full rage of the Catholic question, may 
be easily managed. After breakfast I went to Sir William Arbuth- 
not's,'^ and met there a select party of Tories, to decide whether we 
should act with the Whigs by owning their petition in favour of the 
Catholics. I was not free from apprehension that the petition might 
be put into such general language as I, at least, was unwilling to au- 
thenticate by my subscription. The Solicitor^ was voucher that they 
would keep "the terms quite general ; whereupon we subscribed the 
requisition for a meeting, with a slight alteration, affirming that it was 
our desire not to have intermeddled, had not the anti-Catholics pur- 
sued that course ; and so the Whigs and we are embarked in the 
same boat, vogue la galere. 

Went about one o'clock to the Castle, where we saw the auld 
murderess Mons Meg brought up there in solemn procession to reoc- 
cupy her ancient place on the Argyle battery. Lady Hopetoun was 
my belle. The day was cold but serene, and I think the ladies must 
have been cold enough, not to mention the Celts, who turned out 
upon the occasion, under the leading of Cluny Macpherson, a fine 
spirited lad. Mons Meg is a monument of our pride and poverty. 
The size is immense, but six smaller guns would have been made at 
the same expense, and done six times as much execution as she could 
have done. There was immense interest taken in the show by the 
people of the town, and the numbers who crowded the Castle-hill 
had a magnificent appearance. About thirty of our Celts attended 
in costume ; and as there was a Highland regiment on duty, with 
dragoons and artillerymen, the whole made a splendid show. The 
dexterity with which the last manned and wrought the windlass which 
raised old Meg, weighing seven or eight tons, from her temporary 

1 Tempest, Act it. Sc. 1. (Stephano). 1822, and the kine: gracefully surprised him by 

2 This gentleman was a favourite with Sir proposing his health at the civic banquet in the 
"Walter — a .special point of communion being Parliament House, -as "Sir William Arbuthuot, 
the antiquities of the British drama. He was Baronet. "—j. g. l. 

Provost of Edinburgh in 1816-17, and again in 3 John Hope, afterwards Lord Justice-Clerk. 



1829.] JOURNAL 431 

carriage to that which has been her basis for many years, was singu- 
larly beautiful as a combined exhibition of skill and strength. My 
daughter had what might have proved a frightful accident. Some 
rockets were let off, one of which lighted upon her head, and set her 
bonnet on fire. She neither screamed nor ran, but quietly permitted 
• Charles K. Sharpe to extinguish the fire, which he did with great 
coolness and dexterity. All who saw her, especially the friendly 
Celts, gave her merit for her steadiness, and said she came of good 
blood. I was very glad and proud of her presence of mind. My 
own courage was not put to the test, for being at some distance, 
escorting the beautiful and lively Countess of Hopetoun, I did not 
hear of the accident till it was over. We lunched with the regiment 
(7 3d) now in the Castle. The little entertainment gave me an op- 
portunity of observing what I have often before remarked — the im- 
provement in the character of the young and subaltern oflScers in the 
army, which in the course of a long and bloody war had been, in 
point of rank and manners, something deteriorated. The number of 
persons applying for commissions (3000 being now on the lists) gives 
an opportunity of selection, and ofiicers should certainly be gentle- 
men, with a complete opening to all who can rise by merit. The style 
in which duty, and the knowledge of their profession, is enforced, 
■preyeiiis faineants from long remaining in the profession. 

In the evening I presided at the Celtic Club, who received me 
with their usual partiality. I like this society, and willingly give my- 
self to be excited by the sight of handsome young men with plaids 
and claymores, and all the alertness and spirit of Highlanders in their 
native garb. There was the usual degree of excitation — excellent 
dancing, capital songs, a general inclination to please and to be pleased. 
A severe cold, caught on the battlements of the Castle, prevented me 
from playing first fiddle so well as usual, but what I could do was 
received with the usual partiality of the Celts. I got home, fatigued 
and vino gravatus, about eleven o'clock. We had many guests, some 
of whom, English ofiicers, seemed both amused and surprised at our 
wild ways, especially at the dancing without ladies, and the mode of 
drinking favourite toasts, by springing up with one foot on the bench 
and one on the table, and the peculiar shriek of applause so unlike 
English cheering. 

March 10. — This may be a short day in the diary, though a busy 
one to me. I arranged books and papers in the morning, and went 
to Court after breakfast, where, as Sir Robert Dundas and I had the 
whole business to discharge, I remained till two or three. Then vis- 
ited Cadell, and transacted some pecuniary matters. 

March 11, '[Abbotsford]. — I had, as usual, a sort of levee the day 
I was to leave town, all petty bills and petty business being reserved 
to the last by those who might as well have applied any one day of 
the present month. But I need not complain of what happens to my 
betters, for on the last day of the Session there pours into the Court 



438 JOURNAL [March 

a succession of trifles which give the Court, and especially the Clerks, 
much trouble, insomuch that a ci-devant brother of mine proposed 
that the last day of the Session should be abolished by Statute. We 
got out of Court at a quarter-past one, and got to Abbotsf ord at half- 
past seven, cold and hungry enough to make Scots broth, English 
roast beef, and a large fire very acceptable. 

March 12. — I set apart this day for trifles and dawdling; yet I 
meditate doing something on the Popish and Protestant aSray. I 
think I could do some good, and I have the sincere wish to do it. 
I heard the merry birds sing, reviewed my dogs, and was cheerful. 
I also unpacked books. Deuce take arrangement ! I think it the 
most complete bore in the world ; but I will try a little of it. I after- 
wards went out and walked till dinner-time. I read Reginald Heber's 
JournaP after dinner. I spent some merry days with him at Oxford 
when he was writing his prize poem. He was then a gay young fel- 
low, a wit, and a satirist, and burning for literary fame. My laurels 
were beginning to bloom, and we were both madcaps. Who would 
have foretold our future lot ? 

"Oh, little did my mither ken 
The day she cradled me 
The land I was to travel in, 
Or the death I was to die." ^ 

March 13. — Wrought at a review of Fraser Tytler's History of 
Scotland. It is somewhat saucy towards Lord Hailes. I had almost 
stuck myself into the controversy Slough of Despond — the contro- 
versy, that is, between the Gothic and Celtic system — but cast my- 
self, like Christian, with a strong struggle or two to the further side 
of this Slough ; and now will I walk on my way rejoicing — not on 
my article, however, but to the fields. Came home and rejoiced at 
dinner. After tea I worked a little more. I began to warm in my 
gear, and am about to awake the whole controversy of Goth and Celt. 
I wish I may not make some careless blunders.' 

March 14. — Up at eight, rather of the latest — then fagged at my 
review, both before and after breakfast. I walked from one o'clock 
till near three. I make it out, I think, rather better than of late I 
have been able to do in the streets of Edinburgh, where I am ashamed 
to walk so slow as would suit me. Indeed nothing but a certain sus- 
picion, that once drawn up on the beach I would soon break up, pre- 
vents me renouncing pedestrian exercises altogether, for it is positive 
suffering, and of an acute kind too. 

March 15. — Altogether like yesterday. Wrote in the morning — 
breakfasted — wrote again till one — out and walked about two hours 

1 Narrative of a Journey through the Upper garding Falconer, author of The Shipwreck.— 

Provinces of India, 1 vols. 4to, 1828. Currie's Burns, vol. ii. p. 290. 

» Old Ballad (known as "Marie Hamilton") ^ See Quart. Rev., Nov. 1829, or Misc. Prose 

quoted by Burns in a letter to Mrs. Dunlop re- Works, xxi. 152-198. 



1829.] JOURNAL 439 

— to the quills once more — dinner — smoked a brace of cigars and 
looked on the fire — a page of writing, and so to bed. 

March 16. — Day sullen and bitter cold. I fear it brings chilblains 
on its wings. A dashing of snow, in thin flakes, wandering from the 
horizon, and threatening a serious fall. As the murderer says to 
Banquo, " Let it come down !" — we shall have the better chance of 
fair weather hereafter. It cleared up, however, and I walked from 
one, or thereabout, till within a quarter of four. A card from Mr. 
Dempster of Skibo,* whose uncle, George Dempster, I knew many 
years since, a friend of Johnson, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and all that 
set — a fine good-humoured old gentleman. Young Mrs. Dempster is 
a daughter of my early friend and patron, Robert Dundas of Arnis- 
ton. Lord Advocate, and I like her for his sake. Mr. Dempster is 
hunting, and I should have liked to have given his wife and sister 
refuge during the time he must spend over moss and moor. But the 
two Annes going to Edinburgh to a fancy ball makes it impossible 
till they return on Friday night. 

March 17. — The Annes went off at eight, morning. After break- 
fast I drove down to Melrose and waited on Mrs. and Miss Dempster, 
and engaged them for Saturday. Weather bitter cold ; yea, atrocious- 
ly so. Naboclish — the better for work. Ladies whose husbands love 
fox-hunting are in a poor way. Here are two pleasant and pretty 
women pegged up the whole day 

" In the worst inn's worst room " * 

for the whole twenty-four hours without interruption. They manage 
the matter otherwise in France, where ladies are the lords of the as- 
cendant. I returned from my visit to my solitary work and solitary 
meal. I eked out the last two hours' length by dint of smoking, 
which I find a sedative without being a stimulant. 

March 18. — I like the hermit life indifferent well, nor would, I 
sometimes think, break my heart, were I to be in that magic mount- 
ain where food was regularly supplied by ministering genii,^ and 
plenty of books were accessible without the least intervention of hu- 
man society. But this is thinking like a fool. Solitude is only agree- 
able when the power of having society is removed to a short space, 
and can be commanded at pleasure. " It is not good for man to be 
alone." It blunts our faculties and freezes our active virtues. And 
-now, my watch pointing to noon, I think after four hours' work I 
may indulge myself with a walk. The dogs see me about to shut my 
desk, and intimate their happiness by caresses and whining. By your 

1 George Dempster of Skibo, one of the few associations of Knox, Wishart, and Buchanan, 

men connecting Scott with this generation, he was the gracious host to a large circle of 

died in Edinburgh on the 6th of February, friends. 

H89. This accomplished Scottish gentleman o Pr„^fl'c \r^..^i p.,^,., ii: 

had for many years made his home at Ormis- ' ^^P^ ^ ^"'^^ ^*^«2/«, ">• 

ton. where, in the old mansion-house, rich in 3 Ante^ p. 204 n. 



440 JOURNAL [Jan. 

leave, Messrs. Genii of the Mountain library, if I come to your retreat 
I'll bring my dogs with me. 

The day was showery, but not unpleasant — soft dropping rains, 
attended by a mild atmosphere, that spoke of flowers in their seasons, 
and a chirping of birds that had a touch of Spring in it. I had the 
patience to get fully wet, and the grace to be thankful for it. 

Come ! a leetle flourish on the trumpet. Let us rouse the genius 
of this same red mountain, so called because it is all the year covered 
with roses. There can be no difficulty in finding it, for it lies tow- 
ards the Caspian, and is quoted in the Persian tales. Well, I open 
my Ephemerides, form my scheme under the suitable planet, and the 
genie obeys the invocation and appears. 

Genie is a misshapen dwarf, with a huge jolter-head like that of 
Boerhave on the Bridge,^ his limbs and body marvellously shrunk and 
disproportioned. 

" Sir Dwarf," said I, undauntedly, " thy head is very large, and 
thy feet and limbs somewhat small in proportion." 

Genie. " I have crammed my head, even to the overflowing, with 
knowledge ; I have starved my limbs by disuse of exercise and denial 
of sustenance !" 

Author. " Can I acquire wisdom in thy solitary library ?" 

G, " Thou mayest !" 

A. ''On what conditions ?" 

G. " Renounce all gross and fleshly pleasure, eat pulse and drink 
water, converse with none but the wise and learned, alive and 
dead !" 

A. " Why, this were to die in the cause of wisdom." 

G. "If you desire to draw from our library only the advantage 
of seeming wise, you may have it consistent with all your favourite 
enjoyments !" 

A. " How much sleep ?" 

G. " A Lapland night — eight months out of the twelve !" 

A. " Enough for a dormouse, most generous Genius. — A bottle 
of wine ?" 

G. " Two, if you please ; but you must not seem to care for 
them — cigars in loads, whisky in lashings ; but they must be taken 
with an air of contempt, a Jioccipaucinihilipilification of all that can 
gratify the outward man." 

A. " I am about to ask you a serious question — When you have 
stuffed your stomach, drunk your bottle, smoked your cigar, how are 
you to keep yourself awake ?" 

G. " Either by cephalic snuff or castle-building !" 

A. "Do you approve of castle - building as a frequent exer- 
cise?" 

1 Mr. Lockhart says, writing in 1839:— "This the venerable bust in question was once dis- 

head may still be seen over a laboratory at No. lodged by ' Colonel Orogg ' and some of his com- 

100 South Bridge, Edinburgh. [It has since panions, and waggishly placed in a very inap- 

been removed.] N.B. There is a tradition that propriate position." 



1829. J JOURNAL 441 

G. " Life were not life without it ! 

'Give me the joy that sickens not the heart, 
Give me the wealth that has no wings to fly.'" 

A. " I reckon myself one of the best aerial architects now liv- 
ing, and nil me poenitet hujus.^'' 

G. ''''Nee est cur te poeniteat; most of your novels have previous- 
ly been subjects for airy castles." 

A. " You have me — and moreover a man of imagination derives 
experience from such imaginary situations. There are. few situations 
in which I have not in fancy figured, and there are few, of course, 
which I am not previously prepared to take some part in." 

G. " True, but I am afraid your having fancied yourself victo- 
rious in many a fight would be of little use were you suddenly called 
to the field, and your personal infirmities and nervous agitations both 
rushing upon you and incapacitating you." 

A. *' My nervous agitations ! — away with thee ! Down, down to 
Limbo and the burning lake ! False fiend, avoid 1" 

So there ends the tale, 
With a hey, with a hoy, 
So there ends the tale, 

With a ho. 
There is a moral. If you fail 
To seize it by the tail. 
Its import will exhale. 
You must know. 

March 19. — The above was written yesterday before dinner, 
though appearances are to the contrary. I only meant that the stu- 
dious solitude I have sometimes dreamed of, unless practised with 
rare stoicism and privation, was apt to degenerate into secret sensual 
indulgences of coarser appetites, which, when the cares and restraints 
of social life are removed, are apt to make us think, with Dr. John- 
son, our dinner the most important event of the day. So much in the 
way of explanation — a humour which I Iovq not. Go to. 

My girls returned from Edinburgh with full news of their bal 
par^. 

March 20. — We spent this day on the same terms as formerly. 
I wrought, walked, dined, drank, and smoked upon the same pat- 
tern. 

March 21. — To-day brought Mrs. Dempster and her sister-in-law. 
To dinner came Robert Dundas of Arniston from the hunting-field, 
and with him Mr. Dempster of Skibo, both favourites of mine. Mr. 
Stuart, the grand-nephew of my dear friend Lady Louisa, also dined 
with us, together with the Lyons from Gattonside, and the day passed 
over in hospitality and social happiness. 

March 22. — Being Sunday, I read prayers to our guests, then 
went a long walk by the lake to Huntly Burn. It is somewhat un- 



442 JOURNAL [March 

comfortable to feel difficulties increase and the strength to meet them 
diminish. But why should man fret,? While iron is dissolved by- 
rust, and brass corrodes, can our dreams be of flesh and blood endur- 
ing ? But I will not dwell on this depressing subject. My liking to 
my two young guests is founded on "things that are long enough 
ago." The first statesman of celebrity whom I personally knew was 
Mr. Dempster's grand-uncle, George Dempster of Dunnichen, cele- 
brated in his time, and Dundas's father was, when Lord Advocate, the 
first man of influence who showed kindness to me. 

March 23. — Arrived to breakfast one of the Courland nobility, 
Baron A. von Meyersdorff, a fine, lively, spirited young man, fond of 
his country and incensed at its degradation under Russia. He talked 
much of the orders of chivalry who had been feudal lords of Livonia, 
especially the order of Porte Glaive, to which his own ancestors had 
belonged. If he report correctly, there is a deep principle of action 
at work in Germany, Poland, Russia, etc., which, if it does "not die 
in thinking," will one day make an explosion. The Germans are a 
nation, however, apt to exhaust themselves in speculation. The Baron 
has enthusiasm, and is well read in English and foreign literature. I 
kept my state till one, and wrote notes to Croker upon Boswell's Scot- 
tish tour. It was an act of friendship, for time is something of a 
scarce article with me. But Croker has been at all times personally 
kind and actively serviceable to me, and he must always command 
my best assistance. Then I walked with the Baron as far as the Lake. 
Our sportsmen came in good time to dinner, and our afternoon was 
pleasant. 

March 24. — This morning our sportsmen took leave, and their 
ladykind (to rencherir on Anthony a- Wood and Mr. Oldbuck) fol- 
lowed after breakfast, and I went to my work till one, and at that 
hour treated the Baron to another long walk, with which he seemed 
highly delighted. He tells me that my old friend the Piincess Ga- 
litzin^ is dead. After dinner I had a passing visit from Kinnear, to 
bid me farewell. This very able and intelligent young man, so able 
to throw a grace over commercial pursuits, by uniting them with lit- 
erature, is going with his family to settle in London. I do not won- 
der at it. His parts are of a kind superior to the confined sphere in 
which he moves in Scotland. In London, he says, there is a rapid 
increase of business and its opportunities. Thus London licks the 
butter off our bread, by opening a better market for ambition. Were 
it not for the difference of the religion and laws, poor Scotland could 
hardly keep a man that is worth ha^ving ; and yet men will not see 
this. I took leave of Kinnear, with hopes for his happiness and fort- 
une, but yet with some regret for the sake of the country which loses 
him. The Baron agreed to go with Kinnear to Kelso : and exit with 
the usual demonstrations of German enthusiasm. 

I Fenimore Cooper told Scott that the Prin- 1827 from the picture taken in Paris. [Mme. 
cess had had Sir Walter's portrait engraved in Mirbels miniature?] 



1829.] JOURNAL 443 

March 25. — I worked in the morning, and think I have sent Cro- 
ker a packet which may be useful, and to Lockhart a critique on 
rather a dry topic, viz. : the ancient Scottish History. I remember 
R. Ainslie, commonly called the plain man, who piqued himself on 
his powers of conversation, striving to strike fire from some old flinty 
wretch whom he found in a corner of a public coach, at length ad- 
dressed him : " Friend, I have tried you on politics, literary matters, 
religion, fashionable news, etc., etc., and all to no purpose." The dry 
old rogue, twisting his muzzle into an infernal grin, replied, " Can you 
claver about bend leather?" The man, be it understood, was a leath- 
er merchant. The early history of Caledonia is almost as hopeless a 
subject, but off it goes. I walked up the Glen with Tom for my 
companion. Dined, heard Anne reading a paper of anecdotes about 
Cluny Macpherson, and so to bed. 

March 26. — As I have been so lately Johnsonizing, I should de- 
rive, if possible, some personal use. Johnson advises Boswell to keep 
a diary, and to omit registers of the weather, and like trumpery. I 
am resolved in future not to register what is yet more futile — my 
gleams of bright and clouded temper. Boswell — whose nerves were, 
one half madness, and half affectation — has thrummed upon this topic 
till it is threadbare. I have at this moment forty things to do, and 
great inclination to do none of them. I ended by working till two, 
walking till five, writing letters, and so to bed. 

March 27. — Letters again. Let me see. I wrote to Lord Mon- 
tagu about Scott of Beirlaw's commission, in which Invernahyle in- 
terests himself. Item, to a lady who is pestering me about a Miss 
Campbell sentenced to transportation for stealing a silver spoon. 
Item, to John Eckford. Item, to James Loch, to get an appointment 
for Sandie Ballantyne's son. Not one, as Dangle says,^ about any 
business of my own. My correspondence is on a most disinterested 
footing. This lasts till past eleven, then enters my cousin R., and 
remains for two hours, till politics, family news, talk of the neigh- 
borhood are all exhausted, and two or three reputations torn to pieces 
in the scouring of them. At length I walk him out about a mile, 
and come back from that empechement. But it is only to find Mr. 
[Henry] C[ranstoun],'^ my neighbour, in the parlour with the girls, and 
there is another sederunt of an hour. Well, such things must be, 
and our friends mean them as civility, and we must take and give the 
currency of the country. But I am diddled out of a day all the same. 
The ladies came from Huntly Burn, and cut off the evening.' 

1 See Sheridan's Critic. quiet since Saturday.— The letter was utterly 

2 Lord Corehouse's brother. forgotten till this recalled it to remembrance. 

3 Room may be made for part of one of the Ergo., there was no sort of call on the Duke 
letters received by this morning's mail, in after beating Buonaparte to go to war with a 
which, after much interesting family detail, booby. But he could not stand the fling at the 
his son-in-law describes the duel which took fair. His correspondence seems admirable ev- 
place between the Duke of Wellington and ery way, and the whole affair was gone through 
Lord Winchelsea:— "There is no reason to ex- in excellent taste, — the Duke and Hardinge 
pect a duel every day, and all has been very trotting out, the two peaceful lords rumbling 



444 JOITR^^AL [March 

March 28. — In spite of tlie temptation of a fine morning, I toiled 
manfully at the review till two o'clock, commencing at seven. I fear 
it will be uninteresting, but I like the muddJing work of antiquities, 
and, besides, wish to record my sentiments with regard to the Gothic 
question. JSTo one that has not laboured as I have done on imaginary 
topics can judge of the comfort a-fforded by walking on all-fours, and 
being grave and dull. I dare say, when the clown of the pantomime 
escapes from his nightly task of vivacity, it is his special comfort to 
smoke a pipe and be prosy with some good-natured fellow, the dullest 
of his acquaintance. I have seen such a tendency in Sir Adam Fer- 
guso%^the gayest man I ever knew; and poor Tom Sheridan has 
complained to me of the fatigue of supporting the character of an 
agreeable companion. 

- March 29. — I wrote, read, and walked with the most stoical regu- 
larity. This muddling among old books has the quality of a sedative, 
and saves the tear and wear of an overwrought brain. I wandered on 
the hills pleasantly enough and concluded a pleasant and laborious day. 

March 30. — I finished the remainder of the criticism and sent it 
off. Pray Heaven it break not the mail coach down. 

Lord and Lady Dalhousie, and their relation. Miss Hawthorne, 
came to dinner, to meet whom we had Dr. and Mrs. Brewster. Lord 
Dalhousie has more of the Caledonian prisca fides than any man I 
know now alive. He has served his country in all quarters of the 
world and in every climate ; yet, though my contemporary, looks ten 
years my junior. He laughed at the idea of rigid temperance, and 
held an occasional skirmish no bad thing even in the West Indies, 
thinking, perhaps, with Armstrong, of " the rare debauch." ^ In all 
incidents of life he has been the same steady, honest, true-hearted 
Lord Dalhousie, that Lordie Ramsay promised to be when at the 
High School. How few such can I remember, and how poorly have 
honesty and valour been rewarded ! Here, at the time when most 
men think of repose, he is bundled off to command in India.'^ Would 
it had been the Chief Governorship ! But to have remained at home 
would have been bare livelihood, and that is all. I asked him what 
he thought of " strangling a nabob, and rifling his jewel closet," and 
he answered, " No, no, an honest man." I fear we must add, a poor 
one. Lady Dalhousie, formerly Miss Brown of Coalstoun, is an ami- 
able, intelligent, and lively woman, who does not permit society to 
" cream and mantle like a standing pool." ^ 

down in a coach and four. The Duke had no transacted business for an hour or so, and then 

half-pence and was followed and bothered for said, ' By-the-by, I was forgetting I have had a 

some time by the tollman on Battersea Bridge, field-day with Lord W. this morning.' They 

when Hardinge fished out some silver or a say the King rowed Arthur much for exposing 

groom came up. There were various market himself at such a crisis." 

gardeners on the road, who, when Lord Win- i j^yf of Preserving Health, book ii. 

''^^:ilXlZ£:rAl7r.L^^^^ , ^ George Ramsay,Earl Of nalhousie,hadJust 

nature's weapons. The moment all was"^ done Jeen appointed Commander^m-Ch.ef m the East 

the Duke clapped spurs to his horse and was I^d^es- which office he held till 1832. He died 

back in Downing Street within the two hours, ^° i.o6»- 

breakfasted, and off to Windsor, where he 8 Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 1. 



1829.] JOURNAL 445 

The weather, drifting and surly, does not permit us to think of 
Melrose, and I could only fight round the thicket with Dr. Brewster 
and his lordship. Lord Dalhousie gave me some interesting ac- 
counts of the American Indians. They are, according to his lordship, 
decaying fast in numbers and principle. Lork Selkirk's property 
now makes large returns, from the stock of the North West Com- 
pany and Hudson's Bay Companies having united. I learned from 
Lord Dalhousie that he had been keeping a diary since the year 
1800. Should his narrative ever see the light, what a contrast will it 
form to the flourishing vapouring accounts of most of the French 
merchants ! Mr. and Mrs, Skene with their daughter Kitty, who has 
been indisposed, came to dinner, and the party was a well-assorted 
one. 



APRIL 

April 1. — A pretty first of April truly ; the hills white with snow, 
I myself as bilious as a dog. My noble guests left about noon. I 
wrote letters, as if I had not bile enough in my bosom already, and 
did not go out to face the snow wreaths till half-past two, when I am 
resolved to make a brush for exercise. There will be fine howling 
among the dogs, for I am about to shut my desk. Found Mrs. 
Skene disposed to walk, so I had the advantage of her company. The 
snow lay three inches thick on the ground; but we had the better ap- 
petite for dinner, after which we talked and read without my lifting 
a pen. 

April 2. — Begins with same brilliant prospect of snow and sun- 
shine dazzling to the eyes and chilling to the fingers, a beastly disa- 
greeable coldness in the air. I stuck by the pen till one, then took 
a drive with the ladies as far as Chiefswood and walked home. 
Young William Forbes^ came, and along with him a Southron, Mr. 
Cleasby. 

April 3. — Still the same party. I fagged at writing letters to Lock- 
hart, to Charles, and to John Gibson, to Mr. Cadell, Croker, Lord Had- 
dington, and others. Lockhart has had an overture through Croker 
requesting him to communicate with some newspaper on the part of 
the Government, which he has wisely declined. Nothing but a thor- 
ough-going blackguard ought to attempt the daily press, unless it is 
some quiet country diurnal. Lockhart has also a wicked wit which 
would make an oflBce of this kind more dangerous to him than to 
downright dulness. I am heartily glad he has refused it.' 

1 Son of Lord Medwyn. Mr. Forbes had late- do anything for it ? I said I was as well in- 
ly returned from Italy, where he had had as clined to serve the Duke as he could be, but it 
travelling companion Mr. Cleasby, and it was must be in other fashion. He then said he 
owing to Mr. Forbes's recommendation that agreed with me— but there was a second ques- 
Mr. Cleasby came to Edinburgh to pursue his tion: Could I find them an editor, and under- 
studies. Mr. Forbes possessed a fine tenor take to communicate between them and him — 
voice, and his favourite songs at that time were in short, save the Treasury the inconvenience 
the Neapolitan and Calabrian canzonetti, to of maintaining an avowed intercourse with the 
which Sir Walter alludes under April 4. Newspaper press ? He said he himself had for 

2 Mr. Lockhart's own account of the over- some years done this— then others. I said I 
ture is suflBciently amusing and characteristic would endeavour to think of a man for their 
of the men and the times: — turn and would call on him soon again. 

"I had not time to write more than a line "I have considered the matter at leisure, 

the other day under Croker's cover, having re- and resolve to have nothing to do with it. 

ceived it just at post time. He sent for me; I They ca.v only want me as a writer. Any un- 

found him in his nightcap at the Admiralty, derstrapper M.P. would do well enough for car- 

colded badly, but in audacious spirits. His rying hints to a newspaper office, and I will not, 

business was this. The Duke of W[ellingto]u even to secure the Duke, mix myself up with 

finds himself without one newspaper he can the newspapers. That work it is which has 

depend on. He wishes to buy up some even- damned Croker, and I can't afford to sacrifice 

ing print, such as the dull iStar; and could I the advantage which I feel I have gained in 



April, 1829.] JOURNAL 447 

Sir James Mackintosh and Lord Haddington have spoken very 
handsomely of my accession to the Catholic Petition, and I think it 
has done some good ; yet I am not confident that the measure will 
disarm the Catholic spleen.* And I was not entirely easy at finding 
myself allied to the Whigs, even in thic instance, where I agree with 
them. This is witless prejudice, however. 

My walk to-day was up the Rhymer's Glen with Skene. Colonel 
Ferguson dined with us. 

April 4. — Mr. Cleasby left this morning. He has travelled much, 
and is a young man of copious conversation and ready language, aim- 
ing I suppose at Parliament.'^ William Forbes is singing like an an- 
gel in the next room, but he sings only Italian music, which says 
naught to me. I have a letter from one David Patterson, who was 
Dr. Knox's jackal for buying murdered bodies, suggesting that I 
should write on the subject of Burke and Hare, and offering me his 
invaluable collection of anecdotes ! " Curse him imperance and him 
dam insurance,"^ as Mungo says in the farce. Did ever one hear the 
like? The scoundrel has been the companion and patron of such 
atrocious murderers and kidnappers, and he has the impudence to 
write to any decent man ! 

Corrected proof-sheets and dedication of the Magnum and sent 
them off. 

April 5. — Read prayers to what remains of our party : being Anne, 
my niece Anne, the four Skenes, and William Forbes. We then 
walked, and I returned time enough to work a little at the criticism. 
Thus it drew towards dinner in conclusion, after which we smoked, 
told stories, and drank tea. 

April 6. — Worked at the review for three or four hours ; yet hang 
it, I can't get on. I wonder if I am turning clumsy in other matters ; 
certainly I cannot write against time as I used to do. My thoughts 
will not be duly regulated ; my pen declares for itself, will neither 
write nor spell, and goes under independent colours. I went out with 
the child Kitty Skene on her pony. I don't much love children, I 
suppose from want of habit, but this is a fine merry little girl. 

William Forbes sang in the evening with a feeling and taste in- 
describably fine, but as he had no Scottish or English songs, my ears 
were not much gratified. I have no sense beyond Mungo ; " What 
signify me hear if me no understand I" 

William Forbes leaves us. As to the old story, scribble till two, 

these later years by abstaining altogether from 2 Richard Cleasby, afterwards the well-known 
partisan scribbling, or to subject the Quarterly scholar who spent many years in gathering ma- 
te risk of damage. The truth is, I don't ad- terials for an Icelandic Dictionary. Mr. Clcas- 
mire, after all that has come and gone, being by died in 1847, but the work he had planned 
applied to through the medium of friend Cro- was not published until 1874, when it appeared 
key. I hope you will approve of my resolu- under the editorship of Mr. Vigfusson,* assist- 
tion." cd by Sir George Dasent. 

1 Peel, in writing to Scott, says, " The men- 3 BickerstaflTs Padlock, Act i. Sc. 6. 

tion of your name [in Parliament] as attached » . t , j- r- w t^- .• u ^ .u „i 

to the Fdinbiircrh npHfinn wi<5 rpoPivpH with , * An IceLandic-Enfrhsh Dictionary based on the ms. col- 
10 Uie i.cunourgn petition was recenea Wlin lections of the L-^.te Rich.ird Clpasby, enlarged »nd com- 
loud cheers. " pleted by G. Vigfusson. 4to, Oxford, 1874. 



448 JOURNAL [April 

then walk for exercise till four. Deil hae it else, for company eats 
up the afternoon, so nothing can be done that is not achieved in the 
forenoon. 

Ap7'il 7. — We had a gay scene this morning — the fox hounds and 
merry hunters in my little base court, which rung with trampling 
steeds, and rejoiced in scarlet jackets and ringing horns. I have seen 
the day worlds would not have bribed me to stay behind them ; but 
that is over, and I walked a sober pace up to the Abbot's Knowe 
from which I saw them draw my woods, but without finding a fox. 
I watched them with that mixture of interest, affection, and compas- 
sion which old men feel at looking on the amusements of the young. 
I was so far interested in the chase itself as to be sorry they did not 
find. I had so far the advantage of the visit, that it gave me an ob- 
ject for the morning exercise, which I would otherwise only have 
been prompted to by health and habit. It is pleasant to have one's 
walk, — as heralds say, with a difference. By the way, the f oxhunters 
hunted the cover far too fast. When they found a path they ran 
through it pell-mell without beating at all. They had hardly left the 
hare-hole cover, when a fox, which they had over-run, stole away. 
This is the consequence of breeding dogs too speedy. 

April 8. — We have the new^s of the Catholic question being car- 
ried in the House of Lords, by a majority of 105 upon the second 
reading. This is decisive, and the balsam of Fierabras must be swallow- 
ed.^ It remains to see how it will work. Since it was indubitably 
necessary, I am glad the decision on the case has been complete. On 
these last three days I have finished my review of Tytler for Lock- 
hart and sent it off by this post. I may have offended Peter by cen- 
suring him for a sort of petulance towards his predecessor Lord 
Hailes. This day visited by Mr. Carr, who is a sensible, clever young 
man, and by his two sisters^ — beautiful singer the youngest — and 
to my taste, and English music. 

April 9. — Laboured correcting proofs and revising ; the day in- 
finitely bad. Worked till three o'clock ; then tried a late walk, and 
a wet one. 

I hear bad news of James Ballantyne. Hypochondriac I am 
afraid, and religiously distressed in mind. 

I got a book from the Duke de Levis, the same gentleman with 
whom I had an awkward meeting at Abbotsford, owing to his having 
forgot his credentials, which left me at an unpleasant doubt as to his 
character and identity.^ His book is inscribed to me with hyper- 

1 Don Quixote, Pt. I. Bk. ii. Cap. 2. ed going into the Ark, carrying under his arm 
-^ . , „ -. _ .„. , J T V T>- t, a small trunk, on which was written "Pamers 

2 Friends of Joanna Baillie's and John Rich- ^, ^^ ^„,.,^„ ^^ ^^^^•,.„ t^e other a portrait of 
ardsons. jjjg founder of the house bowing reverently to 

3 This must have been an unusual experi- the Virgin, who is made to say, ''Couvrez-vous, 
ence for the head of a family that considered vion cousin.''^ — See'Wa.]po\e''s Letters. The book 
itself to be the oldest in Christendom. Their referred to by Sir Walter is The Carbonaro: a 
chateau contained, it was said, two pictures: JPiedmontese Tale, by the Duke de Levis. 2 
one of the Deluge, in which Noah is represent- vols. London, 1829. 



1829.] JOURNAL 449 

bolical praises. Now I don't like to have, like the Persian poets who 
have the luck to please the Sun of the Universe, my mouth crammed 
with sugar-candy, which politeness will not permit me to spit out, 
and my stomach is indisposed to swallow. The book is better than 
would be expected from the exaggerated nonsense of the dedication. 

April 10. — Left Abbotsford at seven to attend the Circuit. Nota 
bene — half -past six is the better hour ; waters are extremely flooded. 
Lord Meadowbank at the Circuit. Nothing tried but a few trump- 
ery assaults. Meadowbank announces he will breakfast with me to- 
morrow, so I shall return to-night. Promised to my cousin Charles 
Scott to interest myself about his getting the farm of Milsington 
upon Borthwick Water and mentioned him to Colonel Riddell as a 
proposed offerer. The tender was w^ell received. I saw James the 
piper and my cousin Anne ; sent to James Veitch the spyglass of 
Professor Ferguson to be repaired. Dined with the Judge and re- 
turned in the evening. 

April 11. — Meadowbank breakfasted with us, and then went on 
to Edinburgh, pressed by bad news of his family. His wife (daughter 
of my early patron, President Blair) is very ill ; indeed I fear fatally 
so. I am sorry to think it is so. When the King was here she was 
the finest woman I saw at Holyrood. My proofs kept me working 
till two ; then I had a fatiguing and watery walk. After dinner we 
smoked, and I talked with Mr. Carr over criminal jurisprudence, the 
choicest of conversation to an old lawyer; and the delightful music 
of Miss Isabella Carr closed the day. Still, I don't get to my task ; 
but I will, to-morrow or next day. 

April 12. — Read prayers, put my books in order and made some 
progress in putting papers in order which have been multiplying on 
my table. I have a letter from that impudent lad Reynolds about 
my contribution to the Keepsake. Sent to him the House of Aspen, 
as I had previously determined. This will give them a lumping pen- 
nyworth in point of extent, but that's the side I would have the bar- 
gain rest upon. It shall be a warning after this to keep out of such 
a scrape. 

April Id. — In the morning before breakfast I corrected the 
proof of the critique on the life of Lord Pitsligo in Blackwood's 
Magazine.^ After breakfast Skene and his lady and family, and Mr. 
Carr and his sisters, took their departure. Time was dawdled away 
till nearly twelve o'clock and then I could not work much. I fin- 
ished, however, a painful letter to J. Ballantyne, which I hope will 
have effect upon the nervous disorder he complains of. He must 
" awake, arise, or be for ever fallen." I walked happily and pleas- 
antly from two o'clock till four. And now I must look to Anne of 
Geierstein. Hang it ! it is not so bad after all, though I fear it will 
not be popular. In fact, I am almost expended ; but while I exhort 

1 No. 152-May, 1829. 

29 



450 JOURNAL [April 

others to exertion I will not fail to exert myself. I have a letter from 
R. P. Gfillies] proposing to subscribe to assist him from £25 to £50. 
It will do no good, but yet I cannot help giving him something. 

"A dairaen-icker in a thrave 's a sma' request: 
I'll get a blessing wi' the lave, and never miss 't."^ 

I will try a review for the Foreign and he shall have the proceeds. 

April 14. — I sent off proofs of the review of Tytler for John 
Lockhart. Then set a stout heart to a stay brae, and took up Anne of 
Geierstein. I had five sheets standing by me, which I read with care, 
and satisfied myself that worse had succeeded, but it was while the 
fashion of the thing was new. I retrenched a good deal about the 
Troubadours, which was really hors de place. As to King Rene, I 
retained him as a historical character. In short, I will let the sheets 
go nearly as they are, for though J. B. be an excellent judge of this 
species of composition, he is not infallible, and has been in circum- 
stances which may cross his mind. I might have taken this deter- 
mination a month since, and I wish I had. But I thought I might 
strike out something better by the braes and burn-sides. Alas ! I 
walk along them with painful and feeble steps, and invoke their in- 
fluence in vain. But my health is excellent, and it were ungrateful 
to complain either of mental or bodily decay. We called at Elliston 
to-day and made up for some ill-bred delay. In the evening I cor- 
rected two sheets of the Magnum^ as we call it. 

April 15. — I took up Anne^ and wrote, with interruption of a 
nap (in which my readers may do well to imitate me), till two o'clock. 
I wrote with care, having digested Comines. Whether I succeed or 
not, it would be dastardly to give in. A bold countenance often car- 
ries off an indifferent cause, but no one will defend him who shows 
the white feather. At two I walked till near four. Dined with the 
girls, smoked two cigars, and to work again till supper-time. Slept 
like a top. Amount of the day's work, eight pages — a round task. 

April 16. — I meant to go out with Bogie to plant some shrubs in 
front of the old quarry, but it rains cats and dogs as they say, a rare 
day for grinding away at the old mill of imagination, yet somehow I 
have no great will to the task. After all, however, the morning 
proved a true April one, sunshine and shower, and I both worked to 
some purpose, and moreover walked and directed about planting the 
quarry. 

The post brought matter for a May or April morning — a letter 
from Sir James Mackintosh, telling me that Moore and he were en- 
gaged as contributors to Longman's Encyclopaedia, and asking me to 
do a volume at £1000, the subject to be the History of Scotland in 
one volume. This would be very easy work. I have the whole stuff 



1 Burus's Lines to a Mouse: "a daimenicker in a thrave," that is. an ear of corn out of two 
dozen sheaves. 



1829.] JOUBNAL 451 

in my head, and could write currente calamo. The size is as I com- 
pute it about one-third larger than The Tales of my Grandfather. 
There is much to be said on both sides. Let me balance pros and 
cons after the fashion of honest Eobinson Crusoe, Pro. — It is the 
sum I have been wishing for, sufficient to enable me to break the in- 
visible but magic circle which petty debts of myself and others have 
traced round me. With common prudence I need no longer go from 
hand to mouth, or w^hat is worse, anticipate my means. I may also 
pay oS some small shop debts, etc., belonging to the Trust, clear off 
all Anne's embarrassment, and even make some foundation of a purse 
for her. JSF.B. — I think this whacking reason is like to prove the gal- 
lon of Cognac brandy, which a lady recommended as the foundation 
of a Liqueur. " Stop, dear madam, if you please," said my grand- 
father, Dr. Rutherford, " you can [add] nothing to that ; it is flacon- 
nade with £1000," and a capital hit, egad. Contra. — It is terribly 
like a hack author to make an abridgement of what I have written so 
lately. Pro. — But a difference may be taken. A history may be 
written of the same country on a different plan, general where the 
other is detailed, and philosophical where it is popular. I think I 
can do this, and do it with unwashed hands too. For being hacked, 
what is it but another word for being an author ? I will take care of 
my name doubtless, but the five letters which form it must take care 
of me in turn. I never knew name or fame burn brighter by over 
chary keeping of it. Besides, there are two gallant hacks to pull 
with me. Contra. — I have a monstrous deal on hand. Let me see: 
Life of Argyll,^ and Life of Peterborough for Lockhart.'^ Third 
series Tales of my Grandfather — review for Gillies — new novel — end 
of Anne of Geierstein. Pro. — But I have just finished two long re- 
views for Lockhart. The third series is soon discussed. The re- 
view may be finished in three or four days, and the novel is within a 
week and less of conclusion. For the next, we must first see how 
this goes off. In fine, within six weeks, I am sure I can do the work 
and secure the independence I sigh for. Must I not make hay while 
the sun shines ? Who can tell what leisure, health, and life may be 
destined to me ? 

Adjourned the debate till to-morrow morning. 

April 17. — I resumed the discussion of the bargain about the 
history. The ayes to the right, the noes to the left. The ayes have 
it — so I will write to Sir James of this date. But I will take a walk 
first, that I will. A- little shaken with the conflict, for after all were 
I as I have been — — . "My poverty but not my will consents."' 

I have been out in a most delicious real spring day. I returned 
with my nerves strung and my mind determined. I will make this 
plunge, and with little doubt of coming off no loser in character. 

1 John, Duke of Argyll and Greenwich. ^ Romeo and Juliet, Act v. So. 1. 

3 These biographies, intended for The Family 
Library, were never written. 



452 JOURNAL [April 

What is given in detail may be suppressed, general views may be 
enlarged upon, and a bird's-eye prospect given, not the less interest- 
ing, that we have seen its prominent points nearer and in detail. I 
have been of late in a great degree free from wafered letters, sums 
to make up, notes of hand wanted, and all the worry of an embar- 
rassed man's life. This last struggle will free me entirely, and so 
help me Heaven it shall be made ! I have written to Sir James, stat- 
ing that I apprehend the terms to be £1000, namely, for one volume 
containing about one-third more than one of the volumes of Tales of 
my Grandfather, and agreeing to do so. Certes, few men can win a 
thousand pounds so readily. 

We dine with the Fergusons to-day at four. So off we went and 
safely returned. 

April 18. — Corrected proofs. I find J. B. has not returned to 
his business, though I wrote him how necessary it was. My pity be-, 
gins to give way to anger. Must he sit there and squander his 
thoughts and senses upon cloudy metaphysics and abstruse theology 
till he addles his brains entirely, and ruins his business? I have 
written to him again, letter third and, I am determined, last. 

Wrote also to the fop Reynolds, with preface to the House of 
Aspen, then to honest Joseph Train desiring he would give me some 
notion how to serve him with Messrs. Carr, and to take care to make 
his ambition moderate and feasible. 

My neighbour, Mr. Kerr of Kippielaw, struck with a palsy while 
he was looking at the hounds ; his pony remained standing by his 
side. A sudden call if a final one. 

That strange desire to leave a prescribed task and set about some- 
thing else seized me irresistibly. I yielded to it, and sat down to 
try at what speed and in what manner I could execute this job of Sir 
James Mackintosh's, and I wrote three leaves before rising, well 
enough, I think. The girls made a round with me. We drove to 
Chiefswood, and from that to Janeswood, up the Rhymer's Glen, and 
so home. This occupied from one to four. In the evening I heard 
Anne read Mr. Peel's excellent Bill on the Police of the Metropolis, 
which goes to disband the whole generation of Dogberry and Verges. 
Wrote after tea. 

April 19. — I made this a busy day. I wrote on at the history 
until two o'clock, then took a gallant walk, then began reading for 
Gillies's article. James Ferguson dined with us. We smoked and I 
became woundy sleepy. Now I have taken collar to this arrange- 
ment, I find an open sea before me which I could not have antici- 
pated, for though I should get through well enough with my expec- 
tations during the year, yet it is a great thing to have a certainty to 
be clear as a new pin of every penny of debt. There is no being 
obliged or asking favours or getting loans from some grudging friend 
who can never look at you after but with fear of losing his cash, or 
you at him without the humiliating sense of having extorted an obli- 



1829.] JOURNAL 453 

gation. Besides my large debts, I have paid since I was in trouble 
at least £2000 of personal encumbrances, so no wonder my nose is 
still under water. I really believe the sense of this apparently un- 
ending struggle, schemes for retrenchment in which I was unsecond- 
ed, made me low-spirited, for the sun seems to shine brighter upon 
me as a free man. Nevertheless, devil take the necessity which makes 
me drudge like a very hack of Grub Street. 

"May the foul fa' the gear and the bletherie o 't."^ 

I walked out with Tom's assistance, came home, went through 
the weary work of cramming, and so forth ; wrought after tea, and 
then to bed. 

April 20. — As yesterday till two — sixteen pages of the History 
written, and not less than one-fifth of the whole book. What if they 
should be off ? I were finely holp'd for throwing my time away. A 
toy ! They dare not. 

Lord Buchan is dead, a person whose immense vanity, bordering 
upon insanity, obscured, or rather eclipsed, very considerable talents. 
His imagination was so fertile that he seemed really to believe the 
extraordinary fictions which he delighted in telling. His economy, 
most laudable in the early part of his life, when it enabled him, from 
a small income, to pay his father's debts, became a miserable habit, 
and led him to do mean things. He had a desire to be a great man, 
and a Maecenas bon marche. The two celebrated lawyers, his brothers, 
were not more gifted by nature than I think he was, but the re- 
straints of a profession kept the eccentricity of the family in order, 
Henry Erskine was the best-natured man I ever knew, thoroughly a 
gentleman, and with but one fault : he could not say no, and thus 
sometimes misled those who trusted him. Tom Erskine was posi- 
tively mad. I have heard him tell a cock-and-a-buU story of having 
seen the ghost of his father's servant, John Burnet, with as much 
sincerity as if he believed every word he was saying. Both Henry 
and Thomas were saving men, yet both died very poor. The one at 
one time possessed £200,000 ; the other had a considerable fortune. 
The Earl alone has died wealthy. It is saving, not getting, that is 
the mother of riches. They all had wit. The Earl's was crack- 
brained and sometimes caustic; Henry's was of the very kindest, best- 
humoured, and gayest that ever cheered society ; that of Lord Ers- 
kine was moody and maddish. But I never saw him in his best days. 

Went to Haining. Time has at last touched the beautiful Mrs. 
Pringle. I wonder he was not ashamed of himself for spoiling so 
fine a form. But what cares he? Corrected proofs after dinner. 
James B. is at last at work again. 

1 " When r think on the world'a pelf 

May the shame fa' and the blethrie o 't." 

Burden of old Scottish Song. 



454 JOURNAL [April 

April 21. — Spent the whole morning at writing, still the History, 
such is my wilful whim. Twenty pages now finished — I suppose the 
clear fourth part of a volume. I went out, but the day being sulky 
I sat in the Conservatory, after trying a walk ! I have been glancing 
over the works for Gillies's review, and I think on them between- 
hands while I compose the History, — an odd habit of doing two 
things at once, but it has always answered with me well enough. 

April 22. — Another hard day's work at the History, now increased 
•to the Bruce and Baliol period, and threatening to be too lengthy for 
the Cyclopaedia. But I will make short work with wars and battles. 
I wrote till two o'clock, and strolled with old Tom and my dogs' till 
half-past four, hours of pleasure and healthful exercise, and to-day 
taken with ease. A letter from J. B., stating an alarm that he may 
lose the printing of a part of the Magnum. But I shall write him 
he must be his own friend, set shoulder to the wheel, and remain at 
the head of his business ; and of that I must make him aware. And 
so I set to my proofs. " Better to work," says the inscription on 
Hogarth's Bridewell, " than stand thus." 

April 23. — A cold blustering day — bad welcome for the poor 
lambs. I made my walk short and my task long, my work turning 
entirely on the History — all on speculation. But the post brought 
me a letter from Dr. Lardner, the manager of the Cyclopaedia, agree- 
ing to my terms; so all is right there, and no labour thrown away. 
The volume is to run to 400 pages ; so much the better ; I love elbow- 
room, and will have space to do something to purpose. I replied 
agreeing to his terms, and will send him copy as soon as I have 
corrected it. . The Colonel and Miss Ferguson dined with us. I 
think I drank rather a cheerful glass with my good friend. Smoked 
an extra cigar, so no more at present. 

April 25. — After writing to Mr. Cochrane,^ to Cadell and J. B., 
also to Mr. Pitcairn,^ it was time to set out for Lord Buchan's funeral. 
The funeral letters were signed by Mr. H. David Erskine, his lord- 
ship's natural son. His nephew, the young Earl, was present, but 
neither of them took the head of the coffin. His lordship's funeral 
took place in a chapel amongst the ruins. His body was in the grave 
with its feet pointing westward. My cousin, Maxpopple,* was for 
taking notice of it, but I assured him that a man who had been wrong 

1 That these afceruoon rambles with the dogs snapped at even by the paynim Nimrod. What 

were not always so tranquil may be gathered could I say to him but what BrantSme said to 

from an incident described by Mr. Adolphus, some ferraiUeur who had been too successful 

in which an unsuspecting cat at a cottage door in a duel, 'Ah! mon grand ami, vous avez tue 

was demolished by Nimrod in one of his gam- mon autre grand ami.' " 
bols. —Life, vol. ix. p. 362. This deer-hound 2 Manager of the Foreign Revievi. 

was an old ofifender. Sir Walter tells his friend 3 Robert Pitcairn, author of Criminal Trials 

Richardson, d propos of a story he had just in Scotland. 3 vols. 4to. 

heard of Joanna Baillie's cat having worried a * William Scott, Esq., afterwards Laird of 
dog: "It is just like her mistress, who beats Raeburn, was commonly thus designated from 
the male race of authors out of the pit in de- a minor possession, during his father's life- 
scribing the higher passions that are more time. Whatever, in things of this sort, used 
proper to their sex than hers. Alack-a-day! to be practised among the French noblesse, 
my poor cat Hinse, my acquaintance, and in might be traced, till very lately, in the cus- 
some sort my friend of fifteen years, was toms of the Scottish provincial gentry.— j. g. l. 



1829.] JOURNAL 455 

in the head all his life would scarce become right-headed after 
death. I felt something at parting with this old man, though but a 
trumpery body. He gave me the first approbation I ever obtained 
from a stranger. His caprice had led him to examine Dr. Adam's 
class when I, a boy twelve years old, and then in disgrace for some 
aggravated case of negligence, was called up from a low bench, and 
recited my lesson with some spirit and appearance of feeling the 
poetry — it was the apparition of Hector's ghost in the ^neid — of 
which called forth the noble Earl's applause. I was very proud of 
this at the time. 

I was sad on another account — it was the first time I had been 
among these ruins since 1 left a very valued pledge there. My next 
visit may be involuntary. Even so, God's will be done ! at least I 
have not the mortification of thinking what a deal of patronage and 
fuss Lord Buchan would bestow on my funeral.' Maxpopple dined 
and slept here with four of his family, much amused with what they 
heard and saw. By good fortune a ventriloquist and partial juggler 
came in, and we had him in the library after dinner. He was a half- 
starved wretched-looking creature, who seemed to have ate more fire 
than bread. So I caused him to be well stuffed, and gave him a 
guinea, rather to his poverty than to his skill — and now to finish 
Anne of Geierstein. 

April 26. — But not a finger did I lay on the jacket of Anne, 
Looking for something, I fell in with the little drama, long missing, 
called the Doom of Devorgoil. I believe it was out of mere contra- 
diction that I sat down to read and correct it, merely because I would 
not be bound to do aught that seemed compulsory. So I scribbled 
at a piece of nonsense till two o'clock, and then walked to the lake. 
At night I flung helve after hatchet, and spent the evening in reading 
the Doom of Devorgoil to the girls, who seemed considerably inter- 
ested. Anne objects to the mingling the goblinry, which is comic, 
with the serious, which is tragic. After all, I could greatly improve 
it, and it would not be a bad composition of that odd kind to some 
picnic receptacle of all things. 

April 27. — This day must not be wasted. I breakfast with the 
Fergusons, and dine with the Brewsters. But, by Heaven, I will fin- 
ish Anne of Geierstein this day betwixt the two engagements. I don't 
know why nor wherefore, but I hate Anne, I mean Anne of Geierstein ; 
the other two Annes are good girls. Accordingly I well nigh accom- 
plished my work, but about three o'clock my story fell into a slough, 
and in getting it out I lost my way, and was forced to postpone 
the conclusion till to-morrow. Wrote a good day's work notwith- 
standing. 

April 28. — I have slept upon my puzzle, and will now finish it, 
Jove bless my pia mater, as I see not further impediment before me. 

» ii/e, vol. vi. p. 90. 



456 JOURNAL [April 

The story will end, and shall end, because it must end, and so here 
goes. After this doughty resolution, I went doggedly to work, and 
finished five leaves by the time when they should meet the coach. 
But the misfortune of writing fast is that one cannot at the same 
time write concisely. I wrote two pages more in the evening. Stayed 
at home all day. Indeed, the weather — sleety, rainy, stormy — forms 
no tempting prospect. Bogie, too, who sees his flourish going to 
wreck, is looking as spiteful as an angry fiend towards the unpropi- 
tious heavens. So I made a day of work of it, 

"And yet the end was not." 

April 29. — This morning I finished and sent off three pages more, 
and still there is something to write ; but I will take the broad axe 
to it, and have it ended before noon. 

This has proved impossible, and the task lasted me till nine, when 
it was finished, tant Men que mal. Now, will people say this ex- 
presses very little respect for the public ? In fact, I have very little 
respect for that dear publicum whom I am doomed to amuse, like 
Goody Trash in Bartholomew Fair, with rattles and gingerbread ; and 
I should deal very uncandidly with those who may read my confes- 
sions were 1 to say I knew a public worth caring for or capable of 
distinguishing the nicer beauties of composition. They weigh good 
and evil qualities by the pound. Get a good name and you may 
write trash. Get a bad one and you may write like Homer, without 
pleasing a single reader. I am, perhaps, V enfant gate de succes, but I 
am brought to the stake, ^ and must perforce stand the course. 

Having finished Anne^ I began and revised fifteen leaves of the 
History, and sent them to Dr. Lardner. I think they read more trashy 
than I expected. But when could I ever please myself, even when I 
have most pleased others ? Then I walked about two hours by the 
thicket and river-side, watching the appearance of spring, which, as 
Coleridge says — 

" Comes slowly up this way." 

After dinner and tea I resumed the task of correction, which is an 
odious one, but must be attempted, ay, and accomplished too. 

April 30. — Dr. Johnson enjoins Bozzy to leave out of his diary 
all notices of the weather as insignificant. It may be so to an inhab- 
itant of Bolt Court, in Fleet Street, who need care little whether it 
rains or snows, except the shilling which it may cost him for a Jarvie ; 

1 " They have ty'd me to a state ; I cannot fly, What ! will the aspiring blood of Lancaster 

But bear-like I must fight the course." Sink in the ground ? Shakgspeabi. 

-Macbtth, Act T. sc. 7. j^^ ^^^^^ volumes. Edinburgh : Printed for Ca- 

2 The work was published in May under the dell & Co., Edinburgh; and Simpkin & Mar- 
following title:— ">lnne of Geierslein, or The shall, London, 1829. (At the end) Edinburgh: 
Maiden of the Mist. By the Author of TFaver- Printed by Ballantyne & Company, Paul's 
fey, eta Work, Canougate." 



1829.] JOURNAL 457 

but when I wake and find a snow shower sweeping along, and destroy- 
ing hundreds perhaps of young lambs, and famishing their mothers, I 
must consider it as worth noting. For my own poor share, I am as 
indifferent as any Grub Streeter of them all — 

" And since 'tis a bad day, 

Rise up, rise up, my merry men, 
And use it as you may." 

I have accordingly been busy. The weather did not permit me to go 
beyond the courtyard, for it continued cold and rainy. I have em- 
ployed the day in correcting the history for Cyclopaedia as far as 
page 35, exclusive, and have sent it off, or shall to-morrow. I wish 
I knew how it would run out. Dr. Lardner's measure is a large one, 
but so much the better. I like to have ample verge and space enough, 
and a mere abridgment would be discreditable. Well, nobody can 
say I eat the bread of idleness. Why should I ? Those who do not 
work from necessity take violent labour from choice, and were neces- 
sity out of the question I w^ould take the same sort of literary labour 
from choice — something more leisurely though. 



MAY 

May 1. — Weather more tolerable. I commenced my review on 
the Duke of G-uise's Expedition/ for my poor correspondent Gillies, 
with six leaves. What a curious tale that is of Masaniello ! I went 
to Huntly Burn in the sociable, and returned on foot, to my great re- 
freshment. Evening as usual. Ate, drank, smoked, and wrote. 

May 2. — A pitiful day of rain and wind. Laboured the whole 
morning at Gillies's review. It is a fine subject — the Duke of Guise 
at Naples — and I think not very much known, though the story of 
Masaniello is. 

I have a letter from Dr. Lardner proposing to me to publish the 
history in June. But I dare not undertake it in so short a space, 
proof-sheets and all considered ; it must be October — no help for it.'"* 
Worked after dinner as usual. 

May 3. — The very same diary might serve this day as the last. I 
sent off to Gillies half his review, and I wish the other half at Old 
Nick. 

May 4. — A poor young woman came here this morning, well-dress- 
ed and well-behaved, with a strong northern accent. She talked in- 
coherently a long story of a brother and a lover both dead. I would 
have kept her here till I wrote to her friends, particularly to Mr. Suth- 
erland (an Aberdeen bookseller), to inform them where she is, but my 
daughter and her maidens were frightened, as indeed there might be 
room for it, and so I sent her in one of Davidson's chaises to the cas- 
tle at Jedburgh, and wrote to Mr. Shortreed to see she is humanely 
treated. I have written also to her brother. 

"Long shall I see these things forlorn, 
And long again their sorrows feel." 

The rest was write, walk, eat, smoke ; smoke, and write again. 

May 5.— A moist rainy day, mild, however, and promising good 
weather. I sat at my desk the whole day, and worked at Gillies's re- 
view. So was the day exhausted. 

May 6. — I sent off the review. Received the sheets of the Secret 
Tribunal from Master Reynolds. Keith Scott, a grandson of James 
Scott, ray father's cousin-german, came here, a fine lively boy with 

1 See Foreign Quarterly Review, vol. iv. p. the publishers handsomely agreed to give the 
355. author £1500 for two volumes, forming the first 

and fourth issues of their own Cabinet Cyclopce- 

2 This short History of Scotland, it was found, dia, the publication of which was commenced 
could not he comprised in a single volume, and before the end of the year. 



May, 1829.] JOURNAL 459 

good spirits and amiable manners. Just when I had sent off the rest 
of Gillies's manuscript, W. Laidlaw came, so I had him for my com- 
panion in a walk which the late weather has prevented for one or two 
days. Colonel and Mrs. Ferguson, and Margaret Ferguson, came to 
dinner, and so passed the evening. 

May 7. — Captain Percy, brother of Lord Lovaine, and son of Lord 
Beverley, came out to dinner. Dr. and Mrs. Brewster met him. He 
is like his brother. Lord Lovaine, an amiable, easy, and accomplished 
man, who has seen a great deal of service, and roamed about with 
tribes of Western Indians. 

May 8. — Went up Yarrow with Captain Percy, which made a com- 
plete day's idleness, for which I have little apology to offer. I heard 
at the same time from the President* that Sir Robert Dundas is very 
unwell, so I must be in Edinburgh on Monday 11th. Very disagree- 
able, now the weather is becoming pleasant. 

May 9. — Captain Percy left us at one o'clock. He has a sense of 
humour, and aptness of comprehension which renders him an agree - 
able companion. I am sorry his visit has made me a little idle, but 
there is no help for it. 

I have done everything to-day previous to my going away, but— ^ 
que faut-il faire% one must see society now and then, and this is real 
ly an agreeable man. And so, transeat ille. I walked, and was so 
fatigued as to sleep, and now I will attack John Lockhart's proof- 
sheets, of which he has sent me a revise. In the evening I corrected 
proofs for the review. 

May 10. — This must be a day of preparation, which I hate ; yet 
it is but laying aside a few books, and arranging a few papers, and 
yet my nerves are fluttered, and I make blunders, and mislay my pen 
and my keys, and make more confusion than I can repair. After all, 
I will try for once to do it steadily. 

Well ! I have toiled through it ; it is like a ground swell in the 
sea that brings up all that is disgusting from the bottom — admonitory 
letters — unpaid bills — few of these, thank my stars ! — all that one 
would wish to forget perks itself up in your face at a thorough red- 
ding up — devil take it, I will get out and cool the fever that this tur- 
moil has made in my veins ! The delightful spring weather conjured 
down the evil spirit. I sat a long time with my nerves shaking like 
a frightened child, and then laughed at it all by the side of the river, 
coming back by the thicket. 

May 11, [Edi7ihurgh\ — We passed the morning in the little ar- 
rangements previous to our departure, and then returned at night 
to Edinburgh, bringing Keith Scott along. This boy's grandfather, 
James Scott by name, very clever and particularly well acquainted 
with Indian customs and manners. He was one of the first settlers 
in Prince of Wales Island. He was an active-minded man, and there- 

1 Right Hon. Charles Hope. 



460 JOURNAL [May 

fore wrote a great deal. I have seen a trunkful of his mss. Unhap- 
pily, instead of writing upon some subject on which he might have 
conveyed information he took to writing on metaphysics, and lost 
both his candles and his labour. I was consulted about publishing 
some part of his works ; but could not recommend it. They were 
shallow essays, with a good deal of infidelity exhibited. Yet James 
Scott was a very clever man. He only fell into the common mistake 
of supposing that arguments new to him w^ere new to all others. His 
son, when I knew him long since in this country, was an ordinary man 
enough. This boy seems smart and clever. We reached the house 
in the evening ; it was comfortable enough considering it had been 
shut up for two months. I found a letter from Cadell asserting his 
continued hope in the success of the Magnum. I begin to be jealous 
on the subject, but I will know to-morrow. 

May 12. — Went to Parliament House. Sir Robert Duudas very 
unwell. Poor Hamilton on his back with the gout. So was obliged 
to have the assistance of Rolland' from the Second Division. Saw 
Cadell on the way home. I was right : he had been disappointed in 
his expectations from Glasgow and other mercantile places where 
trade is low at present. But 

"Tidings did he bring of Africa and golden joys." 

The Magnum has taken extremely in Ireland, which was little count- 
ed on, and elsewhere. Hence he proposes a new edition of Tales of 
my Grandfather, First Series; also an enlargement of the Third Se- 
ries. All this drives poverty and pinch, which is so like poverty, 
from the door. 

I visited Lady J. S., and had the pleasure to find her well. I 
wrote a little, and got over a place that bothered me. Cadell has 
apprehensions of ^[?me] of G[eierstein], so have I. Well, the worst 
of it is, we must do something better. '^ 

May 13. — Attended the Court, which took up a good deal of 
time. On my return saw Sir Robert Dundas, who is better — and ex- 
pects to be out on Tuesday. I went to the Highland Society to pre- 

1 Adam RoUand, Principal Clerk of Session, tude of surpassing beauties which it contained 
a nephew of Adam Rolland of Gask, who was frightened me. but I find that after having read 
in some respects the prototype of Pleydell, it the public mind required to be let gently 
and whose face and figure have been made fa- down from the tone of excitement to which it 
miliar to the present generation by Raeburn's had been raised, and was contented to pause at 
masterpiece of portraiture, now in the posses- my book (Richelieu), as a man who has been 
sion of Miss Abercrombie, Edinburgh. enjoying a fine prospect from a high hill stops 

2 Sir Walter had written to Mr. Lockhart on before he reaches the valley to take another 
8th May: — '^Anne of Geierstein is concluded; look, though half the beauty be already lost, 
but as I do not like her myself, I do not expect . . . You cannot think how I long to acquit 
she will be popular. " myself of the obligations which I lie under 

As a contrast to the criticisms of the printer towards you, but I am afraid that fortune, who 

and publisher, and a comment upon the au- has given you both the will and the power to 

thor's own apprehensions, the subjoined ex- confer such great favours upon me, has not in 

tract from a letter written by Mr. G. P. R. any degree enabled me to aid or assist you in 

James may be given: — "When I first read return." 
Anne of Geierstein I will own that the multi- 



1829.] JOURNAL 461 

sent Miss Grahame Stirling's book, being a translation of Gelieu's 
work on bees,^ which was well received. Went with the girls to 
dine at Dalhousie Castle, where we were very kindly received. I saw 
the Edge well Tree,^ too fatal, says Allan Ramsay, to the family from 
which he was himself descended. I also saw the fatal Coalston 
Pear,^ said to have been preserved many hundred years. It is cer- 
tainly a pear either petrified or turned into wood, with a bit out of 
one side of it. 

It is a pity to see my old school-companion, this fine true-hearted 
nobleman of such an ancient and noble descent, after having followed 
the British flag through all quarters of the w^orld, again obliged to 
resume his wanderings at a time of life equal, I suppose, to my own. 
He has not, however, a grey hair in his head. 

May 14. — Left Dalhousie at eight to return here to breakfast, 
w^here we received cold tidings. Walter has had an inflammatory 
attack, and I fear it will be necessary to him to return without delay 
to the Continent. I have letters from Sophia and Sir x\ndrew Halli- 
day. The last has been of the utmost service, by bleeding and ad- 
vising active measures. How little one knows to whom they are to 
be obliged ! I wrote to him and to Jane, recommending the Ionian 
Islands, where Sir Frederick Adam would, I am sure, give Walter a 
post on his staff. The kind old Chief Commissioner at once inter- 
ested himself in the matter. It makes me inexpressibly anxious, yet 
I have kept up my determination not to let the chances of fate over- 
come me like a summer's-cloud.* I wrote four or five pages of the 
History to-day, notwithstanding the agitation of my feelings. 

May 1 5. — Attended the Court, where Mr. Rolland and I had the 
duty of the First Division ; Sir Robert and Hamilton being both laid 
up. Dined at Granton and met Lord and Lady Dalhousie, Sir John 
Hope, etc. I have spelled out some work this day, though I have 
been rather knocked about. 

May 16. — After the Court this day I went to vote at the Archers' 
Hall, where some of the members had become restive. They were 
outvoted two to one. There had been no division in the Royal 
Body Guard since its commencement, but these times make divisions 
everywhere. A letter from Lockhart brings better news of AValter, 
but my heart is heavy on the subject. I went on with my History, 
however, for the point in this world is to do what we ought, and bear 
what we must. 

1 The Bee Preserver, or Practical Directions sae." — Allan Ramsay's Works, vol. i. p. 329: 
for the Management and Preservation of Hives. "Stocks in 1720." 2 vols. 8vo, Lond. 1800. 
Translated from the French of J. De Gelieu. The tree is still flourishing [1889], and the 
1829. belief in its sympathy with the family is not 

2 "An oak tree which grows by the side of yet extinct, as an old forester, on seeing a 
a fine spring near the Castle of Dalhousie; very large branch fall from it on a quiet still day in 
much observed by the country people, who July, 1874. exclaimed, "The laird's deed noo!" 
give out that before any of the family died a and accordingly news came soon after that Fox 
branch fell from the Edgewell Tree. The old Maule, 11th Earl of Dalhousie, had died. 

tree some few years ago fell altogether, but 3 The Coalstoun Pear was removed from Dal- 

another sprang from the same root, which is housie to Coalstoun House in 1861. 
now [1720] tall and flourishing ; ana lang be it * Macbeth, Act iii. So. 4. 



462 JOURNAL [May 

Dined at home and wrote in the evening. 

May 11. — I never stirred from my seat all this day. My reflec- 
tions, as suggested by Walter's illness, were highly uncomfortable ; 
and to divert it I wTought the whole day, save when I was obliged 
to stop and lean my head on my hand. Real affliction, however, has 
something in it by which it is sanctified. It is a weight which, how- 
ever oppressive, may like a bar of iron be conveniently disposed on 
the sufferer's person. Cut the insubstantiality of a hypochondriac 
affection is one of its greatest torments. You have a huge feather- 
bed on your shoulders, which rather encumbers and oppresses you 
than calls forth strength and exertion to bear it. There is somethmg 
like madness in that opinion, and yet it has a touch of reality. 
Heaven help me ! 

May 18. — I resolved to take exercise to-day, so only wrought till 
twelve. I sent off some sheets and copy to Dr. Lardner. I find my 
written page goes as better than one to two of his print, so a little 
more than one hundred and ninety of my writing will make up the 
sum wanted. I sent him off as far as page sixty-tw^o. Went to Mr. 
Colvin Smith's at one, and sat for my picture to three. There must 
be an end of this sitting. It devours my time. 

I wrote in the evening to Walter, James MacCulloch, to Dr. Lard- 
ner, and others, and settled some other correspondence. 

May 19. — I went to the Court, and abode there till about one, 
and in the Library from one to two, when I was forced to attend a 
public meeting about the King's statue. I have no turn for these 
committees, and yet I get always jamm'd into them. They take up 
a cruel deal of time in a way very unsatisfactory. Dined at home, 
and wrought hard. I shall be through the Bruce's reign. It is 
lengthy ; but, hang it, it was our only halcyon period. I shall be 
soon done with one-half of the thousand pound's worth. 

May 20. — Mr. Cadell breakfasted with us, with a youngster for 
whom he wants a letter to the Commander or Governor of Bombay. 
After breakfast C. and I had some talk of business. His tidings, like 
those of ancient Pistol, are of Africa and golden joys. He is sure 
of selling at the starting 8000 copies of the Magnum, at a profit of 
£70 per 1000 — that is, per month. This seems certain. But he 
thinks the sale will rise to 12,000, which will be £280 more, or £840 
in all. This will tell out a gross divisible profit of upwards of £25,- 
000. This is not unlikely, but after this comes a series of twenty 
volumes at least, which produce only half that quantity indeed ; but 
then the whole profits, save commissions, are the author's. That will 
come to as much as the former, say £50,000 in all. This supposes I 
carry on the works of fiction for two or three novels more. But be- 
sides all this, Cadell entertains a plan of selling a cheaper edition by 
numbers and numbermen, on which he gives half the selling price. 
One man, Mr. Ireland, offers to take 10,000 copies of the Magnum and 
talks of 25,000. This allows a profit of £50 per thousand copies, 



1829.] JOURNAL 463 

not much worse than the larger copy, and Cadell thinks to carry on 
both. I doubt this. I have great apprehension that these interlo- 
pers would disgust the regular trade, with whom we are already deep- 
ly engaged. I also foresee selling the worst copies at the higher 
price. All this must be thought and cared for. In the meantime, I 
see a fund, from which large payments may be made to the Trustees, 
capable of extinguishing the debt, large as it is, in ten years or ear- 
lier, and leaving a reversion to my family of the copyrights. Sweet 
bodements^ — good — but we must not reckon our chickens before 
they are hatched, though they are chipping the shell now. We will 
see how the stream takes. 

Dined at a public dinner given to the excellent Lord Dalhousie 
before his departure for India. An odd way of testifying respect to 
public characters, by eating, drinking, and roaring. The names, how- 
ever, will make a good show in the papers. Home at ten. Good 
news from Sophia and Walter. I am zealous for the Mediterranean 
when the season comes, which may be the beginning of September. 

May 21. — This is only the 23d on which I write, yet I have for- 
gotten anything that has passed on the 21st worthy of note. I wrote 
a good deal, I know, and dined at home. The step of time is noise- 
less as it passes over an old man. The non est tanti mingles itself with 
everything. 

May 22. — I was detained long in the Court, though Ham. had re- 
turned to his labour. We dined with Captain Basil Hall, and met a 
Mr. Codman, or some such name, with his lady from Boston. The 
last a pleasant and well-mannered woman, the husband Bostonian 
enough. We had Sir William Arbuthnot, besides, and his lady. 

By-the-bye, I should have remembered that I called on my old 
friend, Lady Charlotte Campbell, and found her in her usual good- 
humour, though miffed a little — I suspect at the history of Gillespie 
Grumach in the Legend of Montrose. I saw Haining also, looking 
thin and pale. These should have gone to the memorandum of yes- 
terday. 

May 23. — Went to-day to call on the Commissioner,' and saw, at 
his Grace's Levee, the celebrated divine, soi-disant prophet, Irving.^ 
He is a line-looking man (bating a diabolical squint), with talent on 
his brow and madness in his eye. His dress, and the arrangement 
of his hair, indicated that much attention had beeii bestowed on his 
externals, and led me to suspect a degree of self-conceit, consistent 
both with genius and insanity. 

Came home by Cadell's, who persists in his visions of El Dorado. 
He insists that I will probably bring £60,000 within six years to rub 
off all Constable's debts, which that sum will do with a vengeance. 

1 Macbeth. Act it. Sc. 1. s Rev. Edward Irving, minister of the Scot- 

2 Lord Forbes was at this time His Majesty's tish Church in London, was deposed March, 
High Commissioner to the General Assembly 1833, and died Dec. 1834, aged forty-two, 

of the Church of Scotland: he had been ap- 
pointed in 1826. 



464 JOURNAL [May 

Cadell talks of oSering for the Poetry to Longman. I fear they will 
not listen to him. The Napoleon he can command when he likes by 
purchasing their stock in hand. The lives of the Novelists may also 
be had. Pleasant schemes all these, but dangerous to build upon. 
Yet in looking at the powerful machine which we have put in motion, 
it must be owned " as broken ships have come to land." 

Waited on the Commissioner at five o'clock, and had the pleasure 
to remain till eight, when the debate in the Assembly was over. The 
question which employed their eloquence was whether the celebrated 
Mr. Irving could sit there as a ruling elder. ^ It was settled, I think 
justly, that a divine, being of a different order of officers in the Kirk, 
cannot assume the character of a ruling elder, seeing he cannot dis- 
charge its duties. 

Mr. Irving dined with us. I could hardly keep my eyes off 
him while we were at table. He put me in mind of the devil dis- 
guised as an angel of light, so ill did that horrible obliquity of vision 
harmonise with the dark tranquil features of his face, resembling that 
of our Saviour in Italian pictures, with the hair carefully arranged in 
the same manner. There was much real or affected simplicity in the 
manner in which he spoke. He rather rnade play^ and spoke much 
across the table to the Solicitor, and seemed to be good-humoured. 
But he spoke with that kind of unction which is nearly [allied] to 
cajolerie. He boasted much of the tens of thousands that attended 
his ministry at the town of Annan, his native place, till he wellnigh 
provoked me to say he was a distinguished exception to the rule that 
a prophet was not esteemed in his own country. But time and place 
were not fitting. 

May 24. — I wrote or wrought all the morning, yea, even to dinner- 
time. Miss Kerr, and Mrs. Skene, and Will Clerk dined. Skene came 
from the Commissioner's at seven o'clock. We had a merry evening. 
Clerk exults in the miscarriage of the Bill for the augmentation of 
the judges' salaries. He and the other clerks in the Jury Court had 
hoped to have had a share in the proposed measure, but the Court 
had considered it as being nos poma natamus. I kept our friends 
quiet by declining to move in a matter which was to expose us to the 
insult of a certain refusal. Clerk, with his usual felicity of quota- 
tion, said they should have remembered the Clown's exhortation to 
Lear, " Good nuncle, tarry and take the fool with you."^ 

May 25. — Wrote in the morning. Dr. Macintosh Mackay came 
to breakfast, and brought with him, to show me, the Young Cheva- 
lier's target, purse, and snuff-box, the property of Cluny MacPherson. 
The pistols are for holsters, and no way remarkable ; a good service- 
able pair of weapons silver mounted. The targe is very handsome 
indeed, studded with ornaments of silver, chiefly emblematic, chosen 
with much taste of device and happily executed. There is a con* 

1 That is as a lay-member of the General As- ' Ltar, Act i. Sc. *. 

sembly of the Church of Scotland. 



1829.] JOURNAL 465 

trast betwixt the shield and purse, the targe being large and heavy, 
the purse, though very handsome, unusually small and light. After 
one o'clock I saw the Duke and Duchess of Gordon ; then went to 
Mr. Smith's to finish a painting for the last time. The Duchess 
called with a Swiss lady, to introduce me to her friend, while 1 was 
doing penance. I was heartily glad to see her Grace once more. 
Called in at Cadell's. His orders continue so thick that he must 
postpone the delivery for several days, to get new engravings thrown 
off, etc. Vogue la gaVere ! From all that now appears, I shall be 
much better off in two or three years than if my misfortunes had 
never taken place. Periissem ni periissem. 

Dined at a dinner given by the Antiquarian Society to Mr. Hay 
Drummond, Secretary to the Society, now going Consul to Tangiers. 
It was an excellent dinner — turtle, champagne, and all the agremens 
of a capital meal, for £l, 6s. a-head. How Barry managed I can't 
say. The object of this compliment spoke and drank wine inces- 
santly ; good-naturedly delighted with the compliment, which he re- 
peatedly assured me he valued more than a hundred pounds. I take 
it that after my departure, which was early, it would be necessary to 
" carry Mr. Silence to bed." ^ 

Mag 26. — The business at the Court heavy. Dined at Gala's, 
and had the pleasure to see him in amended health. Sir John and 
Lady Hope were there, and the evening was lively and pleasant. 
George Square is always a melancholy place for me. I was dining 
next door to my father's former house.'^ 

Mag 27. — I got up the additional notes for the Waverleg Nov- 
els. They seem to be setting sail with a favourable wind. I had to- 
day a most kind and friendly letter from the Duke of Wellington, 
which is a thing to be vain of. He is a most wonderful man to have 
climbed to such a height without ever slipping his foot. Who would 
have said in 1815 that the Duke would stand still higher in 1829, 
and yet it indubitably is so. We dined with Lady Charlotte Camp- 
bell, now Lady Charlotte Bury, and her husband, who is an egregious 
fop but a fine draughtsman.. Here is another day gone without work 
in the evening. 

May 28. — The Court as usual till one o'clock. But I forgot to 
say Mr. Mackintosh Mackay breakfasted, and inspected my curious 
Irish MS., which Dr. Brinkley gave me.^ Mr. Mackay, I should say 
Doctor, who well deserved the name, reads it wdth tolerable ease, so I 
hope to knock the marrow out of the bone with his assistance. I 
came home and despatched proof-sheets and revises for Dr. Lardner. 
I saw kind John Gibson, and made him happy with the fair prospects 

i 2d Henry IV., Act v. Sc. 3. James vi. It bears the following inscription 

2 No. 25. in Sir Walter's hand:— "The kind donor of this 

s The manuscript referred to is now at Ab- book is the Right Rev. Bishop of Cloyne, famed 

botsford. It is a small quarto of 8|- X 6^ inches, for his skill in science, and especially as an 

bound in old mottled leather, and consisting astronomer." For contents of vol. see Appen- 

of 251 leaves of paper, written on both sides in dix. Dr. John Brinkley, Bishop of Cloyne, was 

the Irish character, apparently in the reign of Astronomer Royal for Ireland. 

30 



466 JOURNAL [May 

of the Magnum. He quite agrees in my views. A young clergy- 
man, named M'Combie, from Aberdeenshire, also called to-day. I 
have had some consideration about the renewal or re-translation of 
the Psalmody. I had peculiar views adverse to such an undertak- 
ing.^ In the first place, it would be highly unpopular with the lower 
and more ignorant rank, many of whom have no idea of the change 
which those spiritual poems have suffered in translation, but consider 
their old translations as the very songs which David composed. At 
any rate, the lower class think that our fathers were holier and better 
men than we, and that to abandon their old hymns of devotion, in 
order to grace them with newer iind more modish expression, would 
be a kind of sacrilege. Even the best informed, who think on the 
subject, must be of opinion that even the somewhat bald and rude 
language and versification of the Psalmody gives them an antique 
and venerable air, and their want of the popular graces of modish 
poetry shows they belong to a style where ornaments are not re- 
quired. They contain, besides, the very words which were spoken 
and sung by the fathers of the Reformation, sometimes in the wilder- 
ness, sometimes in fetters, sometimes at the stake. If a Church pos- 
sessed the vessels out of w^hich the original Reformers partook of the 
Eucharist, it would be surely bad taste to melt them down and ex- 
change them for more modern. No, no. Let them write hymns and 
paraphrases if they will, but let us have still 

"All people that on earth do dwell I""^ 

Law and devotion must lose some of their dignity as often as they 
adopt new fashions. 

May 30. — The Skenes came in to supper last night. Dr. Scott 
of Haslar Hospital came to breakfast. He is a nephew of Scott of 
Scalloway, who is one of the largest proprietors in Shetland. I have 
an agreeable recollection of the kindness and hospitality of these re- 
mote isles, and of this gentleman's connections in particular, who 
welcomed me both as a stranger and a Scott, being duly tenacious of 
their clan. This young gentleman is high in the medical department 
of the navy. He tells me that the Ultima Thule is improving rap- 
idly. The old clumsy plough is laid aside. They have built several 
stout sloops to go to the deep-sea fishing, instead of going thither in 

1 See letter to Principal Baird, ante, p. 270 n. to hira a psalm. She proceeded to do so, when 

he gently interposed, saying, "No! no! the 

2 The first line of the Scottish metrical ver- Scotch Psalms." After reading to him a little 
sion of the hundredth Psalm. Mr. Lockhart while, he expressed a wish to be moved nearer 
tells us, in his affecting account of Sir Walter's the window, through which he looked long and 
illness, that his love for the old metrical ver- earnestly up and down the valley and towards 
sion of the Psalms continued unabated to the the sky, and then on the woman's face, saying: 
end. A story has been told, on the authority '■Til knoio it all before nighf^ This story will 
of the nurse in attendance, that on the morn- find some confirmation from the entry in the 
ing of the day on which he died, viz., on the Journal under September 24, 1830: "I think/ 
21st Sept. 1832, he opened his eyes once more, ivill be in the secret next week, unless I recruit 
quite conscious, and calmly asked her to read greatly." 



1829.J JOURNAL 467 

open boats, which consumed so much time between the shore and 
the haaf or fishing spot. Pity but they would use a steam-boat to 
tow them out ! I have a real wish to hear of Zetland's advantage; 
I often think of its long isles, its towering precipices, its capes cov- 
ered with sea-fowl of every class and description that ornithology 
can find names for, its deep caves, its smoked geese, and its sour sil- 
locks. I would like to see it again. After the Court I came round 
by Cadell, who is like Jemmy Taylor, 

" Full of mirth and full of glee," 

for which he has good reason, having raised the impression of the 
Magnum to 12,000 copies, and yet the end is not, for the only puz- 
zle now is how to satisfy the delivery fast enough.^ 

May 31. — We dined at Craigcrook with Jeffrey. It is a most 
beautiful place, tastefully planted with shrubs and trees, and so se- 
questered, that after turning into the little avenue, all symptoms of 
the town are left behind you. He positively gives up the Edinburgh 
Review.^ A very pleasant evening. Rather a glass of wine too much, 
for I was heated during the night. Very good news of Walter. 

1 In a letter to his son at this time he says ' Jeffrey, who had just retired from the edi- 
the "sale of the Novels is pro-di-gi-ous. If it torship of the Edinburgh Review, was succeed- 
last but a few years it will clear my feet of old ed by Macvey Napier, whose first No. was pub- 
encumbrances. "—Lt/e, vol. ix. p. 32. lished in October, 1829. 



JUNE 

June 1. — Being Sunday I remained to work the whole day, and 
finished half of the proposed volume of History. I was not dis- 
turbed the whole day, a thing rather unusual. 

June 2. — Received Mr. Rees of London and Col. Ferguson to 
breakfast. Mr. Rees is clearly of opinion our scheme (the Magnum) 
must answer.^ I got to letter-writing after breakfast, and cleared oil 
old scores in some degree. Dr. Ross called and would hardly hear of 
my going out. I was obliged, however, to attend the meeting of 
the trustees for the Theatre.'* The question to be decided was, 
whether we should embrace an option left to us of taking the old 
Theatre at a valuation, or w^hether we should leave it to Mrs. Siddons 
and Mr. Murray to make the best of it. There were present Sir Pat- 
rick Murray, Baron Hume, Lord Provost, Sir John Hay, Mr. Gilbert 
Innes, and myself. We were all of opinion that personally we ought 
to have nothing to do with it. But I thought as trustees for the pub- 
lic, we were bound to let the public know how the matter stood, and 
that they might, if they pleased, have the theatrical property for 
£16,000, which is dog cheap. They were all clear to give it up (the 
right of reversion) to Mrs. Siddons. I am glad she should have it, 
for she is an excellent person, and so is her brother. But I think it 
has been a little jobbish. There is a clause providing the new pat- 
entees may redeem. I desired that the circumstance should be noted, 
that we were only exercising our own judgment, leaving the future 
trustees to exercise theirs. I rather insisted that there should be 
some saving clause of this kind, even for the sake of our honour. 
But I could not prevail upon my colleagues to put such a saving 
clause on the minutes, though they agreed to the possibility of the 
new patentees redeeming on behalf of the public. I do not think we 
have done right. 

I called on Mr. Cadell, whose reports of the Magnum might fill up 
the dreams of Alnaschar should he sleep as long as the seven sleep- 
ers. The rest was labour and letters till bed-time. 

June 3. — The ugly symptoms still continue. Dr. Ross does not 
make much of it, and I think he is apt to look grave. ^ I wrote in 

1 The first volume had just been issued with ^ Theatre Royal, Edinburgh, which stood at 

a dedication to the King. The series was com- that time in Shakespeare Square, the site of 

pleted in 48 vols., published at the beginning the present General Post-Offlce. 

of each month, between 1829-33, and the cir- 3 Mr. Lockhart remarks that, besides the 

culation went on increasing until it reached usual allowance of rheumatism, and other less- 

35,000 monthly. er ailments, Sir AValter had an attack that 



June, 1829.] JOURNAL 469 

the morning. Dr. Macintosli Mackay came to breakfast, and brought 
a Gaelic book, which he has published — the Poetry of Rob Donn — 
some of which seems pretty as he explained it. Court kept me till 
near two, and then home comes I. Afternoon and evening was spent 
as usual. In the evening Dr. Ross ordered me to be cupped, an op- 
eration which I only knew from its being practised by that eminent 
medical practitioner the barber of Bagdad. It is not painful ; and, I 
think, resembles a giant twisting about your flesh between his finger 
and thumb. 

June 4. — I was obliged to absent myself from the Court on Dr. 
Ross's positive instance ; and, what is worse, I was compelled to send 
an apology to Hopetoun House, where I expected to see Madame 
Caradori, who was to sing Jock of Hazeldean. I wrote the song for 
Sophia; and I find my friends here still prefer her to the foreign syren. 

"However, Madame Caradori, 
To miss you I am very sorry, 
I should have taken it for glory 
To have heard you sing my Border story." 

I worked at the Tales of my Grandfather, but leisurely. 

June 5. — Cadell came to dine with me tete-a-tete, for the girls are 
gone to Hopetoun House. We had ample matter to converse upon, 
for his horn was full of good news. While we were at dinner we had 
letters from London and Ireland, which decided him to raise the im- 
pression of Waverley to 15,000. This, with 10,000 on the number 
line which Ireland is willing to take, will make £18,000 a year of di- 
visible profit. This leads to a further speculation, as I said, of great 
importance. - Longman & Co. have agreed to sell their stock on 
hand of the Poetry, in which they have certain shares, their shares 
included, for £8000. Cadell thinks he could, by selling off at cheap 
rates, sorting, making waste, etc., get rid of the stock for about £5000, 
leaving £3000 for the purchase of the copyrights, and proposes to 
close the bargain as much cheaper as he can, but at all events to close 
it. Whatever shall fall short of the price returned by the stock, 
the sale of which shall be entirely at his risk, shall be reckoned as 
the price of the copyright, and we shall pay half of that balance. I 
had no hesitation in authorising him to proceed in his bargain with 
Owen Rees of Longman's house upon that principle. For supposing, 
according to Cadell's present idea, the loss on the stock shall amount 
to £2000 or £3000, the possession of the entire copyright undivided 
would enable us, calculating upon similar success to that of the Nov- 
els, to make at least £500 per cent. Longman & Co. have indeed an 
excellent bargain, but then so will we. We pay dear indeed for what 

season of a nature which gave his family great of headache and nervous irritation, certain 
alarm, and which for some days he himself re- haemorrhages indicated the sort of relief re- 
garded with the darkest prognostications. Aft- quired, and he obtained it from copious cup- 
er some weeks, during which he complained ping. — ii/e, vol. ix. p. 327-8. 



470 JOURNAL [Junk 

the ostensible subject of sale is, but if it sets free almost tbe whole 
of our copyrights, and places them in our own hands, we get a most 
valuable quid pro quo. There is only one-fourth, I think, of Marmion 
in Mr. Murray's hands, and it must be the deuce if that cannot be [se- 
cured].* Mr. Cadell proposed that, as he took the whole books on 
his risk, he ought to have compensation, and that it should consist in 
the sum to be given to me for arranging and making additions to the 
volumes of Poetry thus to be republished. I objected to this, for in 
the first place he may suffer no loss, for the books may go off more 
rapidly than he thinks or expects. In the second place, I do not 
know what my labours in the Poetry may be. In either case it is a 
blind bargain ; but if he should be a sufferer beyond the clear half 
of the loss, which we agree to share with him, I agreed to make him 
some compensation, and he is willing to take what I shall think just ; 
so stands our bargain. Remained at home and wrote about four pages 
of Tales. I should have done more, but my head, as Squire Sullen 
says, " aiked consumedly."^ Rees has given Cadell a written offer to 
be binding till the twelfth ; meantime T have written to Lockhart to 
ask John Murray if he will treat for the fourth share of Marmion, 
which he possesses. It can be worth but little to him, and gives us 
all the copyrights. I have a letter from Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, 
touching a manuscript of Messrs. Hay Allan called the Vestiarimn 
Scotice by a Sir Richard Forrester. If it is an imposition it is clev- 
erly done, but I doubt the quarter it comes from. These Hay Allans 
are men of warm imaginations. It makes the strange averment that 
all the Low-Country gentlemen and border clans wore tartan, and 
gives sets of them all. I must see the manuscript before I believe 
in it. The Allans are singular men, of much accomplishment but 
little probity — that is, in antiquarian matters. Cadell lent me £10, 
— funny enough, after all our grand expectations, for Croesus to want 
such a gratility ! 

June 1. — I rose at seven, and wrote to Sir Thomas Lauder a long 
warning on the subject of these Allans and their manuscript.^ Pro- 

1 See infra, p. 472. ious Messrs. Hay Allan. But I think it indis- 

2 The Beaux's Stratagem, Farquhar. pensable that the original ms. should be sent 

3 Through the courtesy of Miss Dick Lauder for a month or so to the Register House under 
I am enabled to give the letter referred to:— the charge of the Deputy Register, Mr. Thom- 

'.'My dear Sir Thomas, — I received your son,- that its antiquity be closely scrutinised by 
kind letter and interesting communication competent persons. The art of imitating an- 
yesterday, and hasten to reply. I am asham- cient writing has got to a considerable perfec- 
ed of the limited hospitality I was able to offer tion, and it has been the bane of Scottish liter- 
Mr. Lauder, but circumstances permitted me ature, and disgrace of her antiquities, that we 
no more. I was much pleased with his lively have manifested an eager propensity to believe 
and intelligent manners, and hope he will live without inquiry and propagate the errors which 
to be a comfort and a credit to Lady Lauder we adopt too hastily ourselves. The general prop- 
and you. osition that the Lowlandcrs ever wore plaids is 

"I need not say I have the greatest interest difficult to swallow. They were of twenty differ- 
in the MS. which you mention. In case it shall ent races, and almost all distinctly different from 
really prove an authentic document, there the Scots Irish, who are the proper Scots, from 
would not be the least difficulty in getting the which the Royal Family are descended. For in- 
Bannatyne Club to take, perhaps, 100 copies, stance, there is scarce a great family in the Low- 
er obtaining support enough so as, at the least, lands of Scotland that is not to be traced to the 
to preclude the possibility of loss to the ingen- Normans, the proudest as well as most civilised 



1829.] 



JOURNAL 



471 



ceeded to write, but found myself pulled up by the necessity of read- 
ing a little. This occupied my whole morning. The Lord President 
called very kindly to desire me to keep at home to-morrow. I thought 
of being out, but it may be as well not. I am somehow or other either 
listless or lazy. My head aches cruelly. I made a fight at reading 
and working till eleven, and then came sleep with a party-coloured 
[mantle] of fantastic hues, and wrapt me into an imaginary world. 

June 8. — 1 wrote the whole morning till two o'clock. Then I went 
into the gardens of Princes Street, to my great exhilaration. I never 
felt better for a walk ; also it is the first I have taken this whole 
week and more. I visited some remote garden grounds, where I had 
not been since I walked there with the good Samaritan Skene, sadly 
enough, at the time of my misfortunes.* The shrubs and young trees. 



race in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. Is 
it natural to think that holding the Scots in 
the contempt in which they did, they would 
have adopted their dress? If you will look at 
Brace's speech to David i., as the historian 
^Ired tells the story, you will see he talks of 
the Scots as a British ofiBcer would do of Cher- 
okees. Or take our country, the central and 
western part of the border : it was British, 
Welsh if you please, with the language and 
manners of that people who certainly wore no 
tartan. It is needless to prosecute this, though 
I could show, I think, that there is no period 
in Scottish History when the manners, lan- 
guage, or dress of the Highlanders were adopt- 
ed in the Low Country. They brought them 
with them from Ireland, as you will see from 
the very curious prints in Derrick's picture of 
Ireland, where you see the chiefs and follow- 
ers of the wild Irish in the ordinary Highland 
dress, tempore Queen Elizabeth. Besides this, 
where has slept this universal custom that no- 
where, unless in this MS., is it even heard of? 
Lesley knew it not, though the work had been 
in his possession, and his attention must have 
been called to it when wniting concerning the 
three races of Scots— Highlanders, Lowlanders, 
and Bordermen, and treating of their dress in 
particular. Andrew Borde knows nothing of 
it, nor the Frenchman who published the geo- 
graphical work from which Pinkerton copied 
the prints of the Highlander and Lowlander, 
the former in a frieze plaid or mantle, while 
the Lowlander struts away in a cloak and trunk 
hose, liker his neighbour the Fleming. I will 
not state other objections, though so many oc- 
cur, that the authenticity of the ms. being 
proved, I would rather suppose the author had 
been some tartan-weaver zealous for his craft, 
who wished to extend the use of tartan over 
the whole kingdom. 1 have been told, and be- 
lieve till now, that the use of tartan was never 
general in Scotland (Lowlands) until the Union, 
when the detestation of that measure led it to 
be adopted as the national colour, and the ladies 
all affected tartan screens or mantles. 

" Now, a word to your own private ear, my 
dear Sir Thomas. I have understood that the 
Messrs. Hay Allan are young men of talent, 
great accomplishments, enthusiasm for Scot- 
tish manners, and an exaggerating imagina- 
tion, which possibly deceives even themselves. 
I myself saw one of these gentlemen wear the 



Badge of High Constable of Scotland, which he 
could have no more right to wear than the 
Crown, Davidoff used also to amuse us with 
stories of knighthoods and orders which he saw 
them wear at Sir William Gumming Gordon's. 
Now this is all very well, and I conceive peo- 
ple may fall into such dreamiug habits easily 
enough, and be very agreeable and talented 
men in other respects, and may be very amus- 
ing companions in the country, but their au- 
thority as antiquaries must necessarily be a 
little apocryphal when the faith of mss. rests 
upon their testimony. An old acquaintance of 
mine, Captain Watsou of the nav}^ told me he 
knew these gentlemen's father, and had served 
with him; he was lieutenant, and of or about 
Captain Watson's age, between sixty I suppose, 
and seventy at present. Now what chance was 
there that either from age or situation he should 
be receiving gifts from the young Chevalier of 
Highland Manuscripts. 

'•All this, my dear Sir Thomas, you will 
make your own, but I cannot conceal from 
you my reasons, because I would wish you to 
know my real opinion. If it is an imitation, 
it is a very good one, but the title ' Liber Ves- 
tiarium' is false Latin I should think not like- 
ly to occur to a Scotsman of Buchanan's age. 
Did you look at the watermark of the ms. ? If 
the Manuscript be of undeniable antiquity, I 
consider it as a great curiosity, and most wor- 
thy to be published. But I believe nothing else 
than ocular inspection will satisfy most cau- 
tious antiquaries. . . . — Yours, my dear Sir 
Thomas, always, Walter Scott. ' ' 

" Edinbuegh, 5 June, 1829." 

The Messrs. Hay Allan subsequently took the 
names of John Sobieski Stuart (who assumed 
the title of Comte d'Albanie) and Charles Ed- 
ward Stuart. John Sobieski died in 1872, and 
Charles Edward in 1880. The "original" of 
Sir Richard Forrester's manuscript was never 
submitted to the inspection of the Deputy Reg- 
ister, as suggested by Scott; but it was pub- 
lished in a verj;- handsome shape a dozen j'ears 
later, and furnished a text for an article in the 
Quarterly, in which the authenticity of the 
book, and the claims of the author and his 
brother, were unsparingly criticised by the late 
Professor Skene of Glasgow.— See "The Heirs 
of the Stuarts " in Quarterly Revieio,\o\. Ixxxii. 

J Ante, pp. 57, 58. 



472 JOURNAL [June 

which were then invisible, are now of good size, and gay with leaf 
and blossom. I, too, old trunk as I am, have put out tender buds of 
hope, which seemed checked for ever. 

I may now look with fair hope to freeing myself of obligation 
from all men, and spending the rest of my life in ease and quiet. 
God make me thankful for so cheering a prospect ! 

June 9. — I wrote in the morning, set out for a walk at twelve 
o'clock as far as Mr. Cadell's. I found him hesitating about his views, 
and undecided about the Number plan. He thinks the first plan an- 
swers so much beyond expectation it is a pity to interfere with it, 
and talks of re-engraving the plates. This would be touchy, but 
nothing is resolved on. 

Anne had a little party, where Lady Charlotte Bury, Lady Hope- 
toun, and others met the Caradori, who sung to us very kindly. She 
sung Jock of Hazeldean very well, and with a peculiar expression of 
humour. Sandie Ballantyne kindly came and helped us with fiddle 
and flageolet. Willie Clerk was also here. We had a lunch, and 
were very gay, not the less so for the want of Mr. Bury, who is a 
thorough-paced coxcomb, with some accomplishments, however. I 
drank two glasses of champagne, Avhich have muddled my brains for 
the day. Will Clerk promised to come back and dine on the wreck 
of the turkey and tongue, pigeon-pie, etc. He came, accordingly, 
and stayed till nine ; so no time for work. It was not a lost day, how- 
ever.* 

June 10. — Nota bene, my complaint quite gone. I attended the 
Court, and sat there till late. Evening had its lot of labour, which is, 
I think, a second nature to me. It is astonishing how little I look 

1 There are so few of'Darsie Latimer's" bustle of the marriage feast, to secrete himselt 

letters preserved that the following may be within the apartment, and that soon after the 

given relating to the Bride of Lammermoor : — entry of the married pair, or at least as soon as 

^ „ the parents and others retreated and the door 

Edin. Sept. 1, 18S9. ^j^g made fast, he had come out from his con- 

*'My dear Sir Walter,— I greet you well cealment, attacked and desperately wounded 
(which, by the way, is the proper mode of sal- the bridegroom, and then made his escape by 
utation in this cursed weather, that is enough the window through the garden. As the un- 
to make us all greet). But to come to my pro- fortunate bride never spoke after having ut- 
posal, which is to forward to you a communi- tered the words mentioned by Sir Walter, no 
cation I had within these few days from Sir light could be thrown on the matter by them. 
Robert Home Dalrymple Elphinstone. But it was thought that Bucklaw's obstinate 

" After expressing the great pleasure the pe- silence on the subject favoured the supposition 

rusal of your notes to the new edition of the of the chastisement having been inflicted by 

Novels had given him, he adds: 'I wish you his rival. It is but fair to give the unhappy 

would give him a hint of what I formerly men- victim (who was by all accounts a most gentle 

tioned to you regarding my great - grandaunt and feminine creature) the benefit of an expla- 

and your own relative, the unfortunate Bride nation on a doubtful point.' 

of Lammermoor. It was first mentioned to me " So fiir my worthy friend, who seems a little 

by Miss Maitland, the daughter of Lady Rothes jealous of the poor bride's reputation. I send 

(they were the nearest neighbours of the Stair you his note, and you can make what you like 

family in Wigtownshire), and I afterwards heard of it. I am intending a little jaunt to his coun- 

the tradition from others in that country. It try, and we mean to visit sundry old castles in 

was to the following effect, that when, after the Aberdeenshire, and wish you were of the party, 

noise and violent screaming in the bridal cham- I have heard nothing of Linton [cognomen for 

ber, comparative stillness succeeded, and the Sir Adam Ferguson] this summer. I hope you 

door was forced, the window was found open. have been passing your time agreeably. — With 

and it was supposed by many that the lover best compliments to all friends, I remain, my 

(Lord Rutherford) had, by the connivance of dear Sir Walter, ever yours, 

some of the servants, found means, during the "Wai. Clerk." 



1829.] JOURNAL 473 

into a book of entertainment. I have been reading over the Five 
Nights of St. Albans, — very much extra moenia nostri mundi, and pos- 
sessed of considerable merit, though the author^ loves to play at 
cherry-pit with Satan.* 

June 11. — I was kept at Court by a hearing till near three. Then 
sat to Mr. Graham for an hour and a half. When I came home, be- 
hold a letter from Mr. Murray, very handsomely yielding up the 
fourth share of Marmion, which he possessed.^ Afterwards we went 
to the theatre, where St. Ronan's Well was capitally acted by Murray 
and the Bailie, — the part of Clara Mowbray being heavy for want of 
Mrs. Siddons. Poor old Mrs. Renaud, once the celebrated Mrs. Powell, 
took leave of the stage. As I was going to bed at twelve at night, in 
came R. P. Gillies like a tobacco cask. I shook him oft with some 
difficulty, pleading my having been lately ill, but he is to call to-mor- 
row morning. 

June 12. — Gillies made his appearance. I told him frankly I 
thought he conducted his affairs too irregularly for any one to assist 
him, and I could not in charity advise any one to encourage subscrip- 
tions, but that I should subscribe myself, so I made over to him 
about £50, which the Foreign Revieiv owes me, and I will grow hard- 
hearted and do no more. I was not long in the Court, but I had to 
look at the controversy about the descent of the Douglas family, then 
I went to Cadell and found him still cock-a-hoop. He has raised the 
edition to 17,000, a monstrous number, yet he thinks it will clear the 
20,000, but we must be quiet in case people jalouse the failure of the 
plates. I called on Lady J. S.* When I came home I was sleepy 
and over-walked. By the way, I sat till Graham finished my picture.^ 
I fell fast asleep before dinner, and slept for an hour. After dinner 
I wrote to Walter, Charles, Lockhart, and John Murray, and took a 
screed of my novel ; so concluded the evening idly enough. 

June 13. — We hear of Sophia's motions. She is to set sail by 
steam-boat on the 16th, Tuesday, and Charles is to make a run down 
with her. But, alas ! my poor Johnnie is, I fear, come to lay his bones 
in his native land. Sophia can no longer disguise it from herself, 
that as his strength weakens the disease increases. The poor child 
is so much bent on coming to see Abbotsford and grandpapa, that it 
would be cruel not to comply with his wish — and if affliction comes, 
we will bear it best together. 

"Not more the schoolboy who expires 
Far from his native home desires 
To see some friend's familiar face, 
Or meet a parent's last embrace." 

1 Written by William Mudford, born 1782, ■♦ The last reference in the Journal to his old 

died 1848: friend I-adv Jane Stuart, who died on the fol- 

« Twelfth Night, Act iii. So. 4. »«Y xt^ O^^ioh^r. 

■> ^ ■ 6 i<;ow in the rooms of the Royal Society, 

3 See Life, vol. ix. pp. 325-6. Edinburgh. 



474 JOURNAL [June 

It must be all as God wills it. Perhaps his native air may be of 
service. 

More news from Caclell. He deems it necessary to carry up the 
edition to 20,000. 

[^Abbotsford.]^ — This day was fixed for a start to Abbotsf ord, where 
we arrived about six o'clock, evening. To my thinking, I never saw 
a prettier place ; and even the trees and flowers seemed to say to me, 
We are your own again. But I must not let imagination jade me 
thus. It would be to make disappointment doubly bitter ; and, God 
knows, I have in my child's family matter enough to check any exu- 
berant joy. 

Ju7ie 14. — A delicious day — threatening rain ; but with the lan- 
guid and affecting manner in which beauty demands sympathy when 
about to weep. I wandered about the banks and braes all morning, 
and got home about three, and saw everything in tolerable order, ex- 
cepting that there w^as a good number of branches left in the walks. 
There is a great number of trees cut, and bark collected. Colonel 
Ferguson dined with us, and spent the afternoon. 

June 15. — Another charming day. Up and despatched packets 
for Ballantyne and Cadell ; neither of them was furiously to the pur- 
pose, but I had a humour to be alert. I walked over to Huntly Burn, 
and round by Chiefswood and Janeswood, where I saw Captain Ham- 
ilton. He is busy finishing his Peninsular campaigns.^ He will not 
be cut out by Napier, whose work has a strong party cast ; and being, 
besides, purely abstract and professional, to the public seems very 
dull. I read General Miller's account of the South American War.* I 
liked it the better that Basil Hall brought the author to breakfast with 
me in Edinburgh. A fine, tall, military figure, his left hand withered 
like the prophet's gourd, and plenty of scars on him. There have 
been rare doings in that vast continent ; but the strife is too distant, 
the country too unknown, to have the effect upon the imagination 
which European wars produce. 

This evening I indulged in the far niente — a rare event with me, 
but which I enjoy proportionally. 

June 16. — Made up parcel for Dr. Lardner ; and now I propose to 
set forth my memoranda of Byron for Moore's acceptance, which 
ought in civility to have been done long since.^ I will have a walk, 
however, in the first place. 

1 Aiinals of the Peninsular War. 3 vols. 8vo, " April QSth, 1889. 
1829. "JIy dear Scott,— It goes to my heart to 

2 Memoirs of General Miller in the Service bother you, knowing how bravely and glori- 
ofthe Republic of Peru. 2 vols. Svo, 1829. ously you are employed for that task-mistress 

3 Mr. Lockhart had written on June 6:— — Posterity. But you may thank your stars 
" Moore is at my elbow and says he has not that I have let you off so long. All that you 
the face to bother you, but he has come exact- promised me about Mrs. Gordon and Gicht, and 
ly to the part where your reminiscences of a variety of other things, is remitted to you; 
Lord Byron would come in; so he is waiting but I positively mwsi have something from" you 
for a week or so in case they .should be forth- of your recollections personally of Byron — and 
coming." And Moore himself had previously that as soon as possible, for I am ju!;t coming 
reminded Sir Walter of his promise. to the period of your acquaintance with him, 



1829.] JOURNAL 475 

I did not get on with Byron so far as I expected — ^began it 
though, and that is always something. T went to see the woods at 
Huntly Burn, and Mars Lea, etc. Met Captain Hamilton, who tells 
me a shocking thing. Two Messrs. Stirling of Drumpeliier came here 
and dined one day, and seemed spirited young men. The younger 
is murdered by pirates. An Indian vessel in which he sailed was 
boarded by these miscreants, who behaved most brutally ; and he, 
offering resistance I suppose, was shockingly mangled and flung into 
the sea. He was afterwards taken up alive, but died soon after. Such 
horrid accidents lie in wait for those whom we see " all joyous and 
unthinking," ^ sweeping along the course of life ; and what end may 
be waiting ourselves ? Who can tell ? 

June 17. — Must take my leave of sweet Abbotsford, and my 
leisure hour, my eve of repose. To go to town will take up the 
morning. 

\Edinhurg'hI\ — We set out about eleven o'clock, got to Edinburgh 
about four, where I dined with Baron Clerk and a few Exchequer 
friends — Lord Chief Baron, Sir Patrick Murray, Sir Henry Jardine, 
etc., etc. 

June 18. — Corrected proofs for Dr. Dionysius Lardner. Cadell 
came to breakfast. Poor fellow, he looks like one who had been 
overworked ; and the difficulty of keeping paper-makers up to print- 
ers, printers up to draughtsmen, artists to engravers, and the whole 
party to time, requires the utmost exertion. He has actually ordered 
new plates, although the steel ones which we employ are supposed 
to throw off 30,000 without injury. But I doubt something of this. 
Well, since they will buckle fortune on our back we must bear it schol- 
arly and wisely.* I went to Court. Called on my return on J. B. 
and Cadell. At home I set to correct Ivanhoe. I had twenty other 
things more pressing ; but, after all, these novels deserve a prefer- 

which was, I think, in the year 1814. Tell me The "memoranda" were not acknowledged 

all the particulars of the presents you exchang- by Moore till Oct. 31, when he wrote Scott as 

ed, and if his letters to you are really all lost follows: — 

(which I will still hope is not the case) ; try, as " My dear Scott,— I ouglit to blush ' terres- 

much as possible, with your memory trial rosy -red, shame's proper hue' for not 

«To lure the tassel gentiles back a?ain.' sooner acknowledging your precious notes 

««ci gcuiiiei uai,^ u^aiu. about Byrou. One conclusion, however, you 

"You will have seen by the newspapers the might have drawn from my silence, naraelj', 

sad loss my little circle of home has experi- that I was satisfied, and had all that I asked 

enced, a loss never to be made up to us in this for Your few pages indeed will be the best 

world, whatever it may be the will of God in ornament of my book. Murray wished me to 

another. Mrs. Moore's own health is much write to you (immediately on receipt of the 

broken, and she is about to try what Chelten- last ms. you sent me) to press your asking 

ham can do for her, while I proceed to finish Hobhouse for the letter of your own (in 1812) 

my printing in town. It would be far better that produced Byron's reply. But I was doubt- 

for me to remain in my present quiet retreat, ful whether you would like to authorise the 

where I am working quite alone, but the dev- publication of this letter, and besides it would 

ils beckon me nearer them, and I must begin be now too late, as the devils are in full hue 

in a few days. Direct to me, under cover to and cry after my heels. 

Croker— you see I take for granted you will "Health and prosperity to you, my dear 

have a packet to send— and he will always friend, and believe me, ever yours most truly 

know where to find me. "Thomas Moore." 

"My kindest remembrances to Miss Scott, i Burns, 
and believe me ever, my very dear friend, your 

truly and affectionate. Thos. Moore." - Merry Wives, Act i. Sc. 3. 



476 JOURNAL [June 

ence. Poor Terry is totally prostrated by a paralytic affection. Con- 
tinuance of existence not to be wished for. 

To-morrow I expect Sophia and her family by steam. 

June 19. — Sophia, and Charles, who acted as her escort, arrived 
at nine o'clock morning, fresh from the steamboat. They were in 
excellent health — also the little boy and girl ; but poor Johnnie seems 
very much changed indeed, and I should not be surprised if the 
scene shortly closes. There is obviously a great alteration in strength 
and features. At dinner we had our family chat on a scale that I had 
not enjoyed for many years. The Skenes supped with us. 

June 20. — Corrected proof-sheets in the morning for Dr. Lardner. 
Then I had the duty of the Court to perform. 

As I came home I recommended young Shortreed to Mr. Cadell 
for a printing job now and then when Ballantyne is over-loaded, which 
Mr. Cadell promised accordingly. 

Lady Anna Maria Elliot's company at dinner. Helped on our 
family party, and passed the evening pleasantly enough, my anxiety 
considering. 

June 21. — A very wet Sunday. I employed it to good purpose, 
bestowing much labour on the History, ten pages of Avhich are now 
finished. Were it not for the precarious health of poor Johnnie I 
would be most happy in this reunion with my family, but, poor child, 
this is a terrible drawback. 

June 22 — I keep working, though interruptedly. But the heat in 
the midst of the day makes me flag and grow irresistibly drowsy. 
Mr. and Mrs. Skene came to supper this evening. Skene has engaged 
himself in drawing illustrations to be etched by himself for Waverley. 
I wish it may do.^ 

June 23. — I was detained in the Court till half-past [three]. Cap- 
tain William Lockhart dined with Skene. The Captain's kind nature 
had brought him to Edinburgh to meet his sister-in-law. 

June 24. — 1 was detained late in the Court, but still had time to 

1 Mr. Skene at this time was engaged upon a tbe BZctcA; Dioarf, Meiklestane Moor, Ellislie, 

series of etchings, regarding which he had sev- Earnscliffe, are all and each vox et praeterea 

eral letters from Sir Walter, one of which may nihil. Westburnflat once was a real spot, now 

be given here :— there is no subject for the pencil. The vestiges 

"Mtdear Skexe.— I enclose you Basil Hall's of a tower at the junction of two wild brooks 

letter, which is very interesting to me ; but I with a rude hillside, are all that are subjects 

wouldrather decline fixing the attention of the for the pencil, and they are very poor ones, 

public further on ray old friend George Consta- Earnscliffe and Ganderscleuch are also visions. 

ble. You know the modern rage for publica- "I hope your work is afloat* and sailing bob- 

tion, and it might serve some newsman's pur- bishly. I have not heard of or seen it. 

pose by publishing something about my old ''Rob Roy has some good and real subjects, 

friend, who was an humourist, which may be as the pass at Loch Ard. the beautiful fall at 

unpleasing to his friends and surviving rela- Ledeard. near the head of the lake. Let me 

tions. know all you desire to be informed without 

"I did not think on Craignethan in writing fear of bothering. Kindest compliments to 

about Tillietudlem, and I believe it differs in Mrs. Skene and the young folks. — Always 

several respects from my Chateau en Espagne. yours entirely, Walter Scott." 
It is not on the Clyde in particular, and, if I 

recollect, the view is limited and wooded. But v *.v ■, wvj- ,ot> 

thot poTi Vio nr. nhioftinn tn arlnntincr it a<5 that Twentv iiumberB Of this work were published m 1828 

that can be no objection to adopting it as tnat ^^^ ^^^9 under the title of "A Series of sketches of the 

which public tJlSte has adopted as coming near- existing Localities alluded to m the Waverlev Nereis," 

est to the ideal of the place. Of the places in etched from original drawings by Jamea Skene," Esq. 



1829.] JOURNAL 477 

go with Adam Wilson and call upon a gentlemanlike East Indian of- 
ficer, called Colonel Francklin, who appears an intelligent and re- 
spectable man. He writes the History of Captain Thomas, i a person 
of the condition of a common seaman, who raised himself to the rank 
of a native prince, and for some time waged a successful war with the 
powers around him. The work must be entertaining. 

June 25. — Finished correcting proofs for Tales, 3d Series. The 
Court was over soon, but I was much exhausted. On the return home 
quite sleepy and past work. I looked in on Cadell, whose hand is in 
his housewife's cap, driving and pushing to get all the works for- 
ward in due order, and cursing the delays of artists and engravers. 
I own I wish we had not hampered ourselves with such causes of 
delay. 

June 26. — Mr. Ellis, missionary from the South Sea Islands, break- 
fasted, introduced by Mr, Fletcher, minister of the parish of Stepney, 

Mr. Ellis's account of the progress of civilisation, as connected 
with religion, is very interesting. Knowledge of every kind is dif- 
fused — reading, writing, printing, abundantly common. Polygamy 
abolished. Idolatry is put down ; the priests, won over by the chiefs, 
dividing among them the consecrated lands which belonged to their 
temples. Great part of the population are still without religion, but 
willing to be instructed. Wars are become infrequent ; and there is 
m each state a sort of representative body, or senate, who are a check 
on the despotism of the chief. All this has come hand in hand with re- 
ligion. Mr, Ellis tells me that the missionaries of different sects avoid- 
ed carefully letting the natives know that there were points of dis- 
union between them. Not so some Jesuits who had lately arrived, 
and who taught their own ritual as the only true one. Mr. Ellis de- 
scribed their poetry to me, and gave some examples ; it had an Ossi- 
anic character, and was composed of metaphor. He gave me a small 
collection of hymns printed in the islands. If this gentleman is sin- 
cere, which I have no doubt of, he is an illustrious character. He 
was just about to return to the Friendly Islands, having come here 
for his wife's health. 

\Blairadam^ — After the Court we set off (the two Thomsons and 
I) for Blair Adam, where we held our Macduff Club for the twelfth 
anniversary. We met the Chief Baron, Lord Sydney Osborne, Will 
Clerk, the merry knight Sir Adam Ferguson, with our venerable host 
the Lord Chief Commissioner, and merry men were we. 

June 27. — I ought not, where merry men convene, to omit our 
jovial son of Neptune, Admiral Adam. The morning proving delight- 
ful, we set out for the object of the day, which was Falkland. We 
passed through Lochore, but without stopping, and saw on the road 

1 A copy of this rather rare book is still in terprise rose from an obscure situation to the 

the Abbotsford Library. Its title is "Colonel rank of General in the service of the Native 

Wm, Franckliu's Military Memoirs of George Powers in the N, W. of India." 4to, Calcutta, 

Thomas, who by extraordinary talents and eu- 180:3. 



478 JOURNAL [Junk 

eastward, two or three places, as Balbedie, Strathendry, and some oth- 
ers known to me by name. Also we went through the town of Les- 
lie, and saw what remains of the celebrated rendezvous of rustic gal- 
lantry called Christ's Kirk on the Green.* It is now cut up with 
houses, one of the most hideous of which is a new church, having 
the very worst and most offensive kind of Venetian windows. This, 
I am told, has replaced a quiet lowly little Gothic building, coeval, per- 
haps, with the royal poet who celebrated the spot. Next we went to 
Falkland, where we found Mr. Howden, factor of Mr. Tyndall Bruce, 
waiting to show us the palace. 

Falkland has most interesting remains. A double entrance-tower, 
and a side building running east from it, is roofed, and in some de- 
gree habitable ; a corresponding building running northward from 
the eastern corner is totally ruinous, having been destroyed by fire. 
The architecture is highly ornamented, in the style of the Palace at 
Stirling. Niches with statues, with projections, cornices, etc., are 
lavished throughout. Many cornice medallions exhibited such heads 
as those procured from the King's room at Stirling, the originals, 
perhaps, being the same. The repeated cypher of James v. and Mary 
of Guise attest the builder of this part of the palace. When com- 
plete it had been a quadrangle. There is as much of it as remained 
when Slezer published his drawings. Some part of the interior has 
been made what is called habitable, that is, a half-dozen of bad rooms 
have been gotten out of it. Am clear in my own mind a ruin should 
be protected, but never repaired. The proprietor has a beautiful place 
called Nuthill, within ten minutes' walk of Falkland, and commanding- 
some fine views of it and of the Lomond Hill. This should be the 
residence. But Mr. Bruce and his predecessor, my old professor, 
John Bruce,'* deserve great credit for their attention to prevent dilap- 
idation, which was doing its work fast upon the ancient palace. The 
only remarkable apartment was a large and well-proportioned gallery 
with a painted roof — tempore Jacohi Sexti — and built after his suc- 
cession to the throne of England. I noticed a curious thing, — a hol- 
low column concealed the rope which rung the Castle bell, keeping 
it safe from injury and interruption. 

The town of Falkland is old, with very narrow streets. The ar- 
rival of two carriages and a gig was an event important enough to 
turn out the whole population. They are said to be less industrious, 
more dissipated, and readier to become soldiers than their neigh- 
bours. So long a court retains its influence ! 

1 The poem of this name is attributed to ment, which, though printed, were never pub- 
King James i. of Scotland, but Dr. Irving in lished ; among others, one in 1799, in 2 vols. 
h\s History of Scottish Poetry sa.YS ih& Qa.T\\&st 8vo, "On the Union between England and 
edition known to him dates only from 1663. Scotland: its causes, effects, and influence of 

3 Professor of Logic in the University of Ed- Great Britain in Europe." In the previous 

inburgh from 1775 till 1792, when he resigned year he also prepared another on the arrange- 

his chair and became Keeper of the State Pa- ments made for repelling the Armada, and 

per OfiBce, and Historiographer to the East In- their application to the crisis of 1798. This able 

dia Company in London. He wrote several man returned to Scotland, and died in Falkland 

elaborate and valuable reports for the Govern- about two years before Scott visited the place, 



1829.] JOURNAL 479 

We dined at Wellfield with my friend George Cheape, with whom 
I rode in the cavalry some thirty years ago. Much mirth and good 
wine made us return in capital tune. The Chief Baron and Admiral 
Adam did not go on this trip. When we returned it was time to go 
to bed by a candle. 

June 28. — Being Sunday, we lounged about in the neighbour- 
hood of the crags called Kiery Craigs, etc. The Sheriff-substitute of 
Kinross came to dinner, and brought a gold signet^ which had been 
found in that town. It was very neat work, about the size of a shil- 
ling. It bore in a shield the arms of Scotland and England, 'parti 
per pale, those of Scotland occupying the dexter side. The shield is 
of the heater or triangular shape. There is no crown nor legend of 
any kind ; a slip of gold folds upwards on the back of the hinge, 
and makes the handle neatly enough. It is too well wrought for 
David ii.'s time, and James iv. is the only monarch of the Scottish 
line who, marrying a daughter of England, may carry the arms of 
both countries parti per pale. Mr. Skelton is the name of the pres- 
ent possessor. 

Two reported discoveries. One, that the blaeberry shrub con- 
tains the tanning quality as four to one compared to the oak — which 
may be of great importance, as it grows so commonly on our moors. 

The other, that the cutting of an apple-tree, or other fruit-tree, 
may be preserved by sticking it into a potato and planting both to- 
gether. Curious, if true. 

June 29 [EdinhurgK\. — We dined together at Blair- Adam, hav- 
ing walked in the woods in the morning, and seen a beautiful new 
walk made through the woody hill behind the house. In a fine even- 
ing, after an early dinner, our party returned to Edinburgh, and there 
each dispersed to his several home and resting-place. I had the 
pleasure of finding my family all well, except Johnnie. 

June 30. — After my short sniff of country air, here am I again at 
the receipt of custom. The sale with Longman & Co., for stock and 
copyrights of my [Poetical] Works, is completed, for £7000, at dates 
from twelve to thirty-six months. There are many sets out of which 
we may be able to clear the money, and then we shall make some- 
thing to clear the copyright. I am sure this may be done, and that 
the bargain will prove a good one in the long run. 

Dined at home with my family, whom, as they disperse to-mor- 
row, I have dedicated the evening to. 

1 An account of the finding ot this seal 1829, is given in the Archceologia Scotica, vol 
(which was thought to be that of Joan of iv. p. 420. 
Beaufort, wife of Janjes i.) at Kinross, in April, 



JULY 

July \. — This morning wrote letters and sent them off by 
Charles. It was Teiud Wednesday, so I was at home to witness the 
departure of my family, which was depressing, My two daughters, 
with the poor boy Johnnie, went off at ten o'clock, my son Charles, 
with my niece, about twelve. The house, filled with a little bustle 
attendant on such a removal, then became silent as the grave. The 
voices of the children, which had lately been so clamorous with their 
joyous shouts, are now hushed and still. A blank of this kind is 
somewhat depressing, and I find it impossible to resume my general 
tone of spirits. A lethargy has crept on me which no efforts can 
dispel ; and as the day is rainy, I cannot take exercise. I have read 
therefore the whole morning, and have endeavoured to collect ideas 
instead of expending them. I have not been very successful. In 
short, diem 'perdidi. 

Localities at Blair- Adam : — 

Lochornie and Lochornie Moss, 
The Loutingstane and Dodgell's Cross, 
Craigen Cat and Craigen Crow, 
Craiggaveral, the King's Cross, and Dunglow. 

July 2. — I made up for my deficiencies yesterday, and besides at- 
tending the Court wrote five close pages, which I think is very near 
double task. I was alone the whole day and without interruption. 
I have little doubt I will make my solitude tell upon my labours, es- 
pecially since they promise to prove so eflScient. I was so languid 
yesterday that I did not record that J. Ballantyne, his brother Sandy, 
and Mr. Cadell dined here on a beef-steak, and smoked a cigar, and 
took a view of our El Dorado. 

July 3. — Laboured at Court, where I was kept late, and wrought 
on my return home, finishing about five pages. I had the great 
pleasure to learn that the party with the infantry got safe to Abbots- 
ford. 

July 4. — After Court I came home and set to work, still on the 
Tales. When I had finished my bit of dinner, and was in a quiet 
way smoking my cigar over a glass of negus, Adam Ferguson comes 
•with a summons to attend him to the Justice-Clerk's, where, it seems, 
I was engaged. I was totally out of case to attend his summons, red- 
olent as I was of tobacco. But I am vexed at the circumstance. 
It looks careless, and, what is worse, affected ; and the Justice is an 



July, 1829.] JOURNAL 481 

old friend moreover.' I rather think I have been guilty towards him 
in this respect before. Devil take my stupidity ! I will call on 
Monday and say, Here is my sabre and here is ray heart. 

July 5. — Sir Adam came to breakfast, and with him Mr. and Mrs. 
Johnstone of Bordeaux, the lady his cousin. I could not give them a 
right Scottish breakfast, being on a Sunday morning. Laboured on 
the Tales the whole morning. 

The post brought two letters of unequal importance. One from 
a person calling himself Haval, announcing to me the terrific circum- 
stance that he had written against the Waverley Novels in a publi- 
cation called La Belle Assembleej at which doubtless, he supposes, 

I must be much annoyed. He be d , and that's plain speaking. 

The other from Lord Aberdeen, announcing that Lockhart, Dr. 
Gooch, and myself, are invested with the power of examining the 
papers of the Cardinal Duke of York, and reporting what is fit for pub- 
lication. This makes it plain that the Invisible^ neither slumbers nor 
sleeps. The toil and remuneration must be Lockhart's, and to any 
person understanding that sort of work the degree of trust reposed 
holds out hope of advantage. At any rate, it is a most honourable 
trust, and I have written in suitable terms to Lord Aberdeen to ex- 
press my acceptance of it, adverting to my necessary occupations 
here, and expressing my willingness to visit London occasionally to 
superintend the progress of the work. Treated myself, being con- 
siderably fagged, with a glass of poor Glengarry's super-excellent 
whisky and a cigar, made up my Journal, wrote to the girls, and so 
to roost upon a crust of bread and a glass of small beer, my usual 
supper. 

July 6. — I laboured all the morning without anything unusual, 
save a call from my cousin, Mary Scott of Jedburgh, whom I per- 
suaded to take part of my chaise to Abbotsford on Saturday. At 
two o'clock I walked to Cadell's, and afterwards to a committee of the 
Bannatyne Club. Thereafter I went to Leith, where we had fixed a 
meeting of The Club, now of forty-one years' standing.^ I was in 
the chair, and Sir Adam croupier. We had the Justice-Clerk, Lord 
Abercromby, Lord Pitmilly, Lord Advocate, James Ferguson, John 
Irving, and William Clerk, and passed a merry day for old fellows. 
It is a curious thing that only three have died of this club since its 
formation. These were the Earl of Selkirk ; James Clerk, Lieutenant 
in the Navy ; and Archibald Miller, W.S. Sir Patrick Murray was 
an unwilling absentee. There were absent — Professor Davidson of 
Glasgow, besides Glassford, who has cut our society, and poor James 
Edmonstoune, whose state of health precludes his ever joining society 
again. We took a fair but moderate allowance of wine, sung our old 
songs, and were much refreshed with a hundred old stories, which 

J Right Hon. David Boyle. 3 For list of the members of The Club, which 

' The familiar name applied to Sir William was formed in 1788, see Life, vol. i. p. 208. 

Knighton, sometimes also the Great Unseen. 

. 31 



482 JOURNAL [July 

would have seemed insignificant to any stranger. The most impor- 
tant of these were old college adventures of love and battle. 

July 7. — I was rather apprehensive that I might have felt my un- 
usual dissipation this morning, but not a whit ; I rose as cool as a 
cucumber, and set about to my work till breakfast-time. I am to dine 
with Ballantyne to-day. To-morrow with John Murray. This sounds 
sadly like idleness, except what may be done either in the morning 
before breakfast, or in the broken portion of the day between attend- 
ance on the Court and my dinner meal, — a vile, drowsy, yawning, 
fagged portion of existence, which resembles one's day, as a portion 
of the shirt, escaping betwixt one's waistcoat and breeches, indicates 
his linen. 

Dined with James Ballantyne, who gave us a very pleasant party. 
There was a great musician, Mr. Neukomm, a German, a pupil of 
Haydn, a sensible, pleasant man. 

July 8. — This morning I had an ample dose of proofs and could 
do nothing but read them. The Court kept me till two ; I was then 
half tempted to go to hear Mr. Neukomm perform on the organ, 
which is said to be a most masterly exhibition, but I reflected how 
much time I should lose by giving way to temptation, and how little 
such ears as mine would be benefited by the exhibition, and so I re- 
solved to return to my proofs, having not a little to do. I was so 
unlucky as to meet my foreigner along with Mr. Laine, the French 
Consul, and his lady, who all invited me to go with them, but I 
pleaded business, and was set down, doubtless, for a Goth, as I de- 
served. However, I got my proofs settled before dinner-time, and 
began to pack up books, etc. 

I dined at John Murray's, and met, amongst others, Mr. Schutze, 
the brother-in-law of poor George Ellis. We conversed about our 
mutual friend, and about the life Canning was to have written about him, 
and which he would have done con amors. He gave me two instances 
of poor George's neatness of expression, and acuteness of discrimi- 
nation. Having met, for the first time, " one Perceval, a young law- 
yer," he records him as a person who, with the advantages of life 
and opportunity, would assuredly rise to the head of affairs. An- 
other gentleman is briefly characterised as " a man of few words, and 
fewer ideas." Schutze himself is a clever man, with something dry 
in his manner, owing, perhaps, to an imperfection of hearing. Mur- 
ray's parties are always agreeable and well chosen. 

July 9. — I began an immense arrangement of my papers, but was 
obliged to desist by the approach of four o'clock. Having been en- 
abled to shirk the Court, I had the whole day to do what I wished, 
and as I made some progress I hope I will be strengthened to resume 
the task when at Abbotsford. 

Heard of the death of poor Bob Shortreed,^ the companion of 

1 Some little time before his death, the wor- ed a set of his friend's works, with this inscrip- 
thy Sheriff- substitute of Roxburghshire receiv- tion:— "To Robert Shortreed, Esq., the friend 



1829.] JOURNAL 483 

many a long ride among the hills in quest of old ballads. He was a 
merry companion, a good singer and mimic, and full of Scottish drol- 
lery. In his company, and under his guidance, I was able to see 
much of rural society in the mountains which I could not otherwise 
have attained, and which I have made my use of. He was, in addition, 
a man of worth and character. I always burdened his hospitality 
while at Jedburgh on the Circuit, and have been useful to some of 
his family. Poor fellow ! He died at a most interesting period for 
his family, when his eldest daughter was about to make an advantage- 
ous marriage. So glide our friends from us — Haec poena diu viventi- 
bus. Many recollections die with him and with poor Terry.^ I 
dined with the Skenes in a family way. 

July 10. — Had a hard day's work at the Court till about two, 
and then came home to prepare for the country. I made a talis qualis 
arrangement of my papers, which I trust I shall be able to complete 
at Abbotsford, for it will do much good. I wish I had a smart boy 
like Red Robin the tinker. Wrote also a pack of letters. 

Abbotsford, July 11. — I was detained in the Court till nearly one 
o'clock, then set out and reached Abbotsford in five or six hours. 
Found all well, and Johnnie rather better. He sleeps, by virtue of 
being in the open air, a good deal. 

July 12. — The day excessively rainy, or, as we call it, soft. I 
e'en unpacked my books and did a great deal to put them in order, 
but I was sick of the labour by two o'clock and left several of my 
books and all of my papers at sixes and sevens. Sir Adam and the 
Colonel dined with us. A Spanish gentleman with his wife, whom I 
had seen at the French Consul's, also dropped in. He was a hand- 
some, intelligent, and sensible man ; his name I have forgot. We 
had a pleasant evening. 

July 13. — This day I wrote till one, resuming the History, and 
making out a day's task. Then went to Chiefswood, and had the 
pleasure of a long walk with a lady, well known in the world of poe- 
try, Mrs. Hemans. She is young and pretty, though the mother of 
five children, as she tells me. There is taste and spirit in her con- 
versation. My daughters are critical, and call her blue, but I think 
they are hypercritical. I will know better when we meet again. I 
was home at four. Had an evening walk with little Walter, who held 
me by the finger, gabbling eternally much that I did, and more that 
I did not, understand. Then I had a long letter to write to Lock- 
hart,' correct and read, and despatch proofs, etc. ; and to bed hearti- 
ly tired, though with no great exertion. 

July 14. — A rainy forenoon broke the promise of a delightful 
morning. I wrote four and a half pages, to make the best of a bad 

of the author from youth to age, and his guide their former rambles is presented by his sin- 

and companion upon many an expedition among cere friend, Walter Scott. "— / G. l. 
the Border hills, in quest of the materials of , ,„, ^ , „ . ,. , ^„ ., „ „ . -«« lono 

legendary lore which have at length filled so ' ^^^ ^^^ ^'^^ o° ^^e 22d June, 1829. 

many volumes, this collection of the results of ' See pp. 489, 490 n. 



484 JOURNAL [July 

bargain. If I can double tbe daily task, I will be something in hand. 
But I am resolved to stick to my three pages a day at least. The 
twelfth of August vr ill then complete my labours. 

July 15. — This day two very pretty and well-bred boys came over 
to breakfast with us. I finished my task of three pages and better, 
and w^ent to walk with the little fellows round the farm, by the lake, 
etc., etc. They were very good companions. Tom has been busy 
thinning the terrace this day or two, and is to go on. 

July 16. — I made out my task-work and betook myself to walk 
about twelve. I feel the pen turn heavy after breakfast ; perhaps my 
solemn morning meal is too much for my intellectual powers, but I 
won't abridge a single crumb for all that. I eat very little at dinner, 
and can't abide to be confined in my hearty breakfast. The work 
goes on as task-work must, slow, sure, and I trust not drowsy, though 
the author is. I sent off to Dionysius Lardner (Goodness be with 
us, what a name !) as far as page thirty-eight inclusive, but I will wait 
to add to-morrow's quota. I had a long walk with Tom.^ I am walk- 
ing with more pleasure and comfort to myself than I have done for 
many a day. May Heaven continue this great mercy, which I have 
so much reason to be thankful for ! 

July 1 7. — AVe called at Chiefswood and asked Captain Hamilton, 
and Mrs. H., and Mrs. Hemans, to dinner on Monday. She is a clever 
person, and has been pretty. I had a long walk with her tete-a-tete. 
She told me of the peculiar melancholy attached to the words no 
more. I could not help telling, as a different application of the words, 
how an old dame riding home along Cockenzie Sands, pretty bowsy, 
fell off the pillion, and her husband, being in good order also, did 
not miss her till he came to Prestonpans. He instantly returned with 
some neighbours, and found the good woman seated amidst the ad- 
vancing tide, which began to rise, with her lips ejaculating to her 
cummers, who she supposed were still pressing her to another cup, 

1 Mr. Skene in his Reminiscences records that Ferguson, whom he seemed to take a pleasure 

— "Tom Purdie identified himself with all his in assailing. When Sir Walter obtained the 

master's pursuits and concerns; he had in early honour of knighthood for Sir Adam, upon the 

life been a shepherd, and came into Sir Wal- plea of his being Custodier of the Regalia of 

ter's service upon his first taking up his abode Scotland, Tom was very indignant, because he 

at Ashiestiel, of which he became at last the said, 'It would take some of the shine out of 

farm manager; and upon the family removing us,' meaning Sir Walter. Tom was very fond 

to Abbotsford continued that function, to which of salmon fishing, which from an accordance 

was added gamekeeper, forester, librarian, and of taste contributed much to elevate my mer- 

henchman to his master in all his rambles about its in his eyes, and I believe I was his greatest 

the property. He used to talk of Sir Walter's favourite of all Sir Walter's friends, which he 

publications as our books, and said that the used occasionally to testify by imparting to me 

reading of them was the greatest comfort to in confidence some secret about fishing, which 

him. for whenever he was off" his sleep, which he concluded that no one knew but himself, 

sometimes happened to him, he had only to He was remarkably fastidious in his care of 

take one of the novels, and before he read two the Library, and it was exceedingly amusing to 

pages it was sure to set him asleep. Tom, with see a clodhopper (for he was always in the garb 

the usual shrewdness common to his country- of a ploughman) moving about in the splendid 

men in that class of life, joined a quaintness apartment which had been fitted up for the 

and drollery in his notions and mode of ex- Library, scrutinising the state of the books, 

pressing himself that was very amusing ; he putting derangement to rights, remonstrating 

was familiar, but at the same time perfectly when he observed anything that indicated 

respectful, although he was sometimes tempt- carelessness." 
ed to deal sharp cuts, particularly at Sir Adam 



1829.] JOURNAL 485 

*' Nae ae drap mair, I thank you kindly." We dined in family, and 
all well. 

July 18. — A Sunday with alternate showers and sunshine. Wrote 
double task, which brings me to page forty-six inclusive. I read the 
Spae-wife of Gait. There is something good in it, and the language is 
occasionally very forcible, but he has made his story dijQScult to under- 
stand, by adopting a region of history little known, and having many 
heroes of the same name, whom it is not easy to keep separate in 
one's memory. Some of the traits of the Spae-wife, who conceits 
herself to be a changeling or twin, are very good indeed. His High- 
land Chief is a kind of Caliban, and speaks, like Caliban, a jargon 
never spoken on earth, but full of effect for all that. 

July 19. — I finished two leaves this morning, and received the 
Hamiltons and Mrs. Hemans to breakfast. Afterwards we drove to 
Yarrow and showed Mrs. Hemans the lions. The party dined with 
us, and stayed till evening. Of course no more work. 

July 20. — A rainy day, and I am very drowsy and would give 
the world to \ I wrote four leaves, however, and then my un- 

derstanding dropped me. I have made up for yesterday's short task. 



[Note. — From July 20th, 1829, to May 23d, 1830, there are no 
entries in the Journal, but during that time Sir Walter met with a 
sad loss. He was deprived of his humble friend and staunch hench- 
man, Thomas Purdie. The following little note to Laidlaw shows 
how keenly he felt his death : — 

"My dear Willie, — I write to tell you the shocking news of 
poor Tom Purdie's death, by which I have been greatly affected. He 
had complained, or rather spoken, of a sore throat ; and the day be- 
fore yesterday, as it came on a shower of rain, I wanted him to walk 
fast on to Abbotsford before me, but you know well how impossible 
that was. He took some jelly, or trifle of that kind, but made no 
complaint. This morning he rose from bed as usual, and sat down 
by the table with his head on his hand ; and when his daughter spoke 
to him, life had passed away without a sigh or groan. Poor fellow ! 
There is a heart cold that loved me well, and, I am sure, thought of 
my interest more than his own. I have seldom been so much shocked. 
I wish you would take a ride down and pass the night. There is 
much I have to say, and this loss adds to my wish to see you. We 
dine at four. The day is indifferent, but the sooner the better. — 
Yours very truly, 

"Walter Scott.* 

''Zlst (sic) October;' Qj. 29th. 
» Blank in original. a Abbotsford JVotanda, p. 175. 



486 JOURNAL [July, 1829. 

To Mr. Cadell, a few days later, he says, "I have lost my old 
and faithful servant, my factotum^ and am so much shocked that I 
really wish to be quit of the country. I have this day laid him in the 
grave." 

On coming to Edinburgh, Sir Walter found that his old friend 
and neighbour Lady Jane Stuart* was no longer there to welcome 
him. She also had died somewhat suddenly on October 28th, and 
was buried at Invermay on November 4th.] 

1 Eldest daughter of David, sixth Earl of John Wishart Belsches Stuart, Bart., of Fetter- 
Leven and fifth of Melville, and widow of Sir caira See ante^ pp. 265, 310, 315. 



1830.— MAY 

May 23, \Ahhotsford\ — About a year ago I took the pet at my 
Diary, chiefly because I thought it made me abominably selfish ; and 
that by recording my gloomy fits I encouraged their recurrence, 
whereas out of sight, out of mind, is the best way to get rid of 
them ; and now I hardly know why I take it up again ; but here 
goes. I came here to attend Raeburn's funeral. I am near of his 
kin, my great-grandfather, Walter Scott, being the second son or first 
cadet of this small family. My late kinsman was also married to my 
aunt, a most amiable old lady. He was never kind to me, and at last 
utterly ungracious. Of course I never liked him, and we kept no 
terras. He had forgot, though, an infantine cause of quarrel, which 
I always remembered. When I was four or five years old I was stay- 
ing at Lessudden House, an old mansion, the abode of this Raeburn. 
A large pigeon-house was almost destroyed with starlings, then a 
common bird, though now seldom seen. They were seized in their 
nests and put in a bag, and I think drowned, or threshed to death, or 
put to some such end. The servants gave one to me, which I in 
some degree tamed, and the brute of a laird seized and wrung its 
neck. I flew at his throat like a wild cat, and was torn from him 
with no little difficulty. Long afterwards I did him the mortal of- 
fence to recall some superiority which my father had lent to the laird 
to make up a qualification, which he meant to exercise by voting for 
Lord Minto's interest against poor Don. This made a total breach 
between two relations who had never been friends, and though I was 
afterwards of considerable service to his family, he kept his ill-hu- 
mour, alleging justly enough that I did these kind actions for the 
sake of his wife and family, not for his benefit. I now saw him at 
the age of eighty -two or three deposited in the ancestral grave. 
Dined with my cousins, and returned to Abbotsford about eight 
o'clock. 

May 24, \EdinhurgK\. — Called on my neighbour Nicol Milne of 
Faldonside, to settle something about the road to Selkirk. After- 
wards went to Huntly Burn and made my compliments to the fam- 
ily. Lunched at half -past two and drove to town, calling at George 
Square on Gala. He proposed to give up the present road to Selkirk 
in favour of another on the north side of the river, to be completed 
by two bridges. This is an object for Abbotsford. In the evening 
came to town. Letter from Mr. H[aydon] soliciting £20. Wait till 
Lockhart comes. 



488 JOURNAL [May 

May 25. — Got mto the old mill this morning, and grind away. 
Walked in very bad day to George Square from the Parliament House, 
through paths once familiar, but not trod for twenty years. Met 
Scott of WoU and Scott of Gala, and consulted about the new road 
between Galashiels and Selkirk. I am in hopes to rid myself of the 
road to Selkirk, which goes too near me at Abbotsf ord. Dined at 
Lord Chief -Commissioner's, where we met the new Chief Baron Aber- 
cromby^ and his lady. I thought it was the first time we had met 
for above forty years, but he put me in mind we had dined one day 
at John Richardson's. 

May 26. — -Wrought with proofs, etc., at the Demonology, which is 
a cursed business to do neatly. I must finish it though, for I need 
money. I went to the Court ; from that came home, and scrambled 
on with half writing, half reading, half idleness till evening. I have 
laid aside smoking much ; and now, unless tempted by company, 
rarely take a cigar. I was frightened by a species of fit which 1 had 
in February, which took from me my power of speaking. I am told 
it is from the stomach. It looked woundy like palsy or apoplexy. 
Well, be it what it will, I can stand it.'* 

May 27. — Court as usual. I am agitating a proposed retirement 
from the Court. As they are only to have four instead of six Clerks 
of Session in Scotland, it will be their interest to let me retire on a 
superannuation. Probably I shall make a bad bargain, and get only 
two-thirds of the salary, instead of three-fourths. This would be 
hard, but I could save between two and three hundred pounds by 
giving up town residence ; and surely I could do enough with my time 

» James Abercromby, who succeeded Sir want to save money and push forward work, 

Samuel Shepherd as Chief Baron, was the third both which motives urge me to stay at home 

son of Sir Ralph Abercromby. He was after- this spring. On the other, besides my great 

wards elected member for Edinburgh in 1832, wish to see you all, and besides my desire to 

and Speaker of the House of Commons in 1835. look at the ' forty-five ' aflairs, I am also desir- 

On Mr. Abercromby 's retirement in 1839, he ous to put in for my interest upon the changes 

was raised to the Peerage as Lord Dunferm- at the Court. ... It must be very much as 

line. He died at Colinton House on April 17th, health and weather shall determine, for if I 

1858, aged 81. see the least chance of a return of this irrita- 

2 Of this illness, Sir Walter had written the tion, my own house will be the only fit place 
following account to Mr. Lockhart, a week after for me. Do not suppose I am either low-spir- 
its occurrence: — ited or frightened at the possibilities I calcu- 

"Anne would tell you of an awkward sort of late upon, but there is no harm in looking at 

fit I had on Monday last; it lasted about five what may be as what needs must be. I really 

minutes, during which I lost the power of ar- believe the ugly symptoms proceed from the 

ticulation, or rather of speaking what I wished stomach particularly. I feel, thank God, no 

to say. I revived instantly, but submitted to mental injury, which is most of all to be dep- 

be bled, and to keep the house for a week, ex- recated. Still, I am a good deal failed in body 

cept exercising walks. They seem to say it is within these two or three last years, and the 

from the stomach. It may or may not be a singula praedantur come by degrees to make 

paralytic affection. We must do the best we up a sum. They say, 'Do not work,' but my 

can in either event. I think by hard work I habits are such that it is not easily managed, 

will have all my aflairs regulated within five for I would be driven mad with idleness. . . . 

or six years, and leave the means of clearing Adieu. Love to all. The odds are greatly 

them in case of my death. I hope there will against my seeing you till you come down 

be enough for all, and provision besides for my here, but I will have the cottage in such order 

own family. The present return of the novels for you ; and as Will Laidlaw comes back at 

to me is about £8000 a year, which moves fast Whitsunday, I will have him to lend me an 

on to clear off old scores. arm to Chiefswood, and I have no doubt to do 

"This awkward turn of health makes my gallantly, 

motions very uncertain. On the one hand I "Edikbubgh, ssi/VftrKary [1830]." 



1830.] JOURNAL 489 

at reviews and other ways, so as to make myself comfortable at Ab- 
botsf ord. At any rate, jacta est alea ; Sir Robert Peel and the Ad- 
vocate seem to acquiesce in the arrangement, and Sir Robert Dundas 
retires alongst with me. I think the difference will be infinite in 
point of health and happiness. 

Maij- 28. — Wrought in the morning, then the Court, then Cadell's. 
My affairs go on up to calculation, and the Magnum keeps its ground. 
If this can last for five or six years longer we may clear our hands 
of debt ; but perhaps I shall have paid that of Nature before that 
time come. They will have the books, and Cadell to manage them, who 
is a faithful pilot. The poetry which we purchased for [£7000], pay- 
able in two years, is melting off our hands ; and we will feed our 
Magnum in that way when we have sold the present stock, by which 
we hope to pay the purchase-money, and so go on velvet with the 
continuation. So my general affairs look well. I expect Lockhart 
and Sophia to arrive this evening in the Roads, and breakfast with 
us to-morrow. This is very reviving. 

May 29. — The Lockharts were to appear at nine o'clock, but it is 
past four, and they come not. There has been easterly wind, and a 
swell of the sea at the mouth of the Firth, but nevertheless I wish 
they would come. The machinery is liable to accidents, and they 
may be delayed thus. 

Mr. Piper, the great contractor for the mail coaches, one of the 
sharpest men in his line, called here to-day to give his consent to our 
line of road. He pays me the compliment of saying he wishes my 
views on the subject. That is perhaps fudge, but at least I know 
enough to choose the line that is most for my own advantage. I have 
written to make Gala acquainted that my subscription depends on 
their taking the Gala foot road ; no other would suit me. After din- 
ner I began to tease myself about the children and their parents, and 
night went. down on our uncertainty. 

May 30. — Our travellers appeared early in the morning, cum tola 
sequela. Right happy were we all. Poor Johnnie looks well. His 
deformity is confirmed, poor fellow ; but he may be a clever lad for 
all that. An imposthume in his neck seems to be the crisis of his 
complaint. He is a gentle, placid creature. Walter is remarkably 
handsome, and so is little Whippety Stourie,^ as I call her. After 
breakfast I had a chat with Lockhart about affairs in general, which, 
as far as our little interests are concerned, are doing very well. 
Lockhart is now* established in his reputation and literary prospects.'^ 
I wrote some more in his Demonology, which is a scrape, I think. 



1 His grand - daughter, Charlotte, whom he " Your letter, this day received, namely Wed- 
playfully named after the fairy in the old Scot- nesday, gave me the greatest pleasure on ac- 
tish Nursery story. count of the prosperous intelligence which it 

* Mr. Lockhart had some thoughts of enter- gives me of your own advancing prospects. . . . 

ing Parliament, at this time, and Sir Walter I take it for granted that you have looked to 

had expressed his opinion a few days before the income of future years before thinking of 

their meeting:— disposing of the profits of a successful one in a 



490 JOURNAL [May, 1830. 

May 31. — Set to work early, and did a good day's work without 
much puffing and blowing. Had Lockhart at dinner, and a tete-a- 
tete over our cigar. He has got the right ideas for getting to the 
very head of the literary world and now stands very high as well for 
taste and judgment as for genius. I think there is no fear now of 
his letting a love of fun run away with him. At home the whole day, 
except a walk to Cadell's, who is enlarging his sale. As he comes 
upon heavy months, and is come now to the Abbot, the Monastery, and 
the less profitable or popular of the novels, this is a fortunate circum- 
stance. The management seems very judicious. 

manner which cannot be supposed to produce would be useless. I will frankly tell you that 

positive or direct advantage, but may rather when I heard you speak you seemed always 

argue some additional degree of expense. suflBciently up to the occasion both in words 

"But this being premeesed, I cannot help and matter, but too indifferent in the manner 
highly approving of your going into Parlia- in which you pressed your argument, and there- 
ment, especially as a member entirely unfet- fore far less likely to attract attention than if 
tered and left to act according to the weal of you had seemed more earnestly persuaded of 
the public, or what you conceive such. It is the truth and importance of what you have 
the broad turnpike to importance and conse- been saying. I think you may gain advantage 
quence which you. as a man of talents in the from taking this hint." No one is disposed to 
full vigour of youth, ought naturally to be am- weigh any man's arguments more favourably 
bitious of. The present times threaten to bring than he himself does, and if you are not con- 
in many occasions when there will and must sidered as gravely interested in what you say, 
be opportunities of a man distinguishing him- and conscious of its importance, your audience 
self and serving his country. will not be so. . . . 

"To go into the House without speaking "Edinbuboh, 20<Airae/, 1830." 



JUNE 

June 1. — Proofs and Court, the inevitable employment of the day. 
Louisa Kerr dined with us, and Williams looked in. We talked a 
good deal on Celtic witchery and fairy lore. I was glad to renew my 
acquaintance with this able and learned man. 

June 2. — The Lockharts left us again this morning, and although 
three masons are clanking at their work to clear a well, the noise is 
mitigated, now the poor babies' clang of tongues is removed. I set 
myself to write, determining to avoid reasoning, and to bring in as 
many stories as possible. Being a Teind Wednesday, I may work 
undisturbed, and I will try to get so far ahead as may permit a jour- 
ney to Abbotsford on Saturday. At nine o'clock was as far ahead as 
page 57. It runs out well, and 150 pages will do. 

June 3. — Finished my proofs, and sent them off with copy. I saw 
Mr. Dickinson* on Tuesday : a right plain sensible man. He is so 
confident in my matters, that, being a large creditor himself, he offers 
to come down, with the support of all the London creditors, to carry 
through any measure that can be devised for my behoof. Mr. Cadell 
showed him that we are four years forward in matter prepared for the 
press. Got Heath's illustrations, which, I dare say, are finely engraved, 
but commonplace enough in point of art. 

June 4, — Court as usual, and not long detained. Visited Cadell. 
All right, and his reports favourable, it being the launch of our annual 
volume, now traversing a year, with unblemished reputation and suc- 
cess uninterrupted. I should have said I overhauled proofs and fur- 
nished copy in the morning between seven and ten o'clock. 

After coming from the Court I met Woll and Gala, and agreed 
upon the measures to be attempted at Selkirk on the eighth at the 
meeting of trustees. In the evening smoked an extra cigar (none 
since Tuesday), and dedicated the rest to putting up papers, etc., for 
Abbotsford. Anne wants me to go to hear the Tyrolese Minstrels, 
but though no one more esteems that bold and high-spirited people, I 
cannot but think their yodellrng, if this be the word, is a variation, or 
set of variations, upon the tones of a jackass, so I remain to dribble 
and scribble at home. 

June 5. — I rose at seven as usual, and, to say truth, dawdled away 
my time in putting things to rights, which is a vile amusement, and 
writing letters to people who write to ask my opinion of their books, 

1 Kr. John Dickinson of Nasb Mill, Herts, the eminent paper-maker.— j. a. i.. Antt, p. 294. 



492 JOURNAL [June 

which is as much as to say — '' Tom, come tickle me." This is worse 
than the other pastime, but either may serve for a broken day, and 
both must be done sometimes. 

[Abbotsford.] — ^Af ter the Court, started for Abbotsford at half -past 
twelve at noon, and here we are at half -past five impransi. The coun- 
try looks beautiful, though the foliage, larches in particular, have had 
a blight. Yet they can hardly be said to lose foliage since they have 
but a sort of brushes at best. 

June 6. — Went through a good deal of duty as to proofs, and the 
like. At two set out and reached by four Chiefs wood, where I had 
the happiness to find' the Lockharts all in high spirits, well and happy. 
Johnnie must be all his life a weakly child, but he may have good 
health, and possesses an admirable temper. We dined with the Lock- 
harts, and were all very happy. 

June v. — Same duty carefully performed. I continued working 
till about one, when Lockhart came to walk. We took our course 
round by the Lake. I was a good deal fagged, and must have tired 
my companion by walking slow. The Fergusons came over — Sir 
Adam in all his glory — and 'Hhe night drave on wi' sangs and clatter." * 

June 8. — Had not time to do more than correct a sheet or two. 
About eleven set off for Selkirk, where there was a considerable meet- 
ing of road trustees. The consideration of the new road w^as intrust- 
ed to a committee which in some measure blinks the question ; yet I 
think it must do in the end. I dined with the Club, young Chesters 
president. It is but bad fun, but I might be father of most of them, 
and must have patience. At length 

"Hame cam our gudeman at e'en, 
And hame cam he."^ 

June 9. — In the morning I advised Sheriff Court processes, car- 
ried on the Demonology till twelve, then put books, etc., in some or- 
der to leave behind me. Will it be ordered that I come back not like 
a stranger, or sojourner, but to inhabit here ? I do not know ; I shall 
be happy either way. It is perhaps a violent change in the end of 
life to quit the walk one has trod so long, and the cursed splenetic 
temper, which besets all men, makes you value opportunities and cir- 
cumstances w^hen one enjoys them no longer. Well ! things must be 
as they may, as says that great philosopher Corporal Nym.' 

[Edinburgh.'] — I had my walk, and on my return found the Lock- 
harts come to take luncheon, and leave of us. Reached Edinburgh at 
nine o'clock. Found, among less interesting letters, two from Lord 
Northampton on the death of the poor Marchioness,* and from Anna 
Jane Clephane on the same melancholy topic. Hei mihi ! 

June 10. — Corrected proofs, prepared some copy, and did all that 

1 Burns's Tam o' Shanter. 3 Henry F., Act ii. Sc. 1. 

' See Johnson's Musical Museum Illustra- * Daughter of his old friend, Mrs. Maclean 

tions, Pt. V. No. 454. Clephane of Torloisk. 



1830.] JOURNAL 493 

was right. Dined and wrouglit in the evening, yet I did not make 
much way after all. 

June 11. — In the morning, the usual labour of two hours. God 
bless that habit of being up at seven ! I could do nothing without 
it, but it keeps me up to the scratch, as they say. I had a letter this 
morning with deep mourning paper and seal ; the mention of my 
nephew in the first line made me sick, fearing it had related to Wal- 
ter. It was from poor Sir Thomas Bradford, who has lost his lady, 
but was indeed an account of Walter,^ and a good one. 

June 12. — A day of general labour and much weariness. 

June 13. — The same may be said of this day. 

June 14. — And of this, only I went out for an hour and a half to 
Mr. Colvin Smith, to conclude a picture for Lord Gillies. This is a 
sad relief from labour. 

"... Sedet aeternumque sedebit 
Infelix Theseus." » 

But Lord Gillies has been so kind and civil that I must have his pict- 
ure as like as possible. 

June 15. — I had at breakfast the son of Mr. Fellenburg^ of Hof- 
wyll, Switzerland, a modest young man. I used to think his father 
something of a quack, in proposing to discover how a boy's natural 
genius lies, with a view to his education. How would they have made 
me a scholar, is a curious question. Whatever was forced on me as 
a task I should have detested. There was also a gentlemanlike little 

man, the Chevalier de , silent, and speaks no English. Poor 

George Scott, Harden, is dead of the typhus fever. Poor dear boy ! 
I am sorry for him, and yet more for his parents. I have a letter 
from Henry on the subject. 

June 16. — I wrote this forenoon till I completed the 100 pages, 
which is well done. I had a call from Colin Mackenzie, whom I had 
not seen for nearly two years; He has not been so well, and looks 
ghastly, but I think not worse than I have seen him of late years. 
We are very old acquaintances. 1 remember he was one of a small 
party at college, that formed ourselves into a club called the Poetical 
Society. The other members were Charles Kerr of Abbotrule (a sin- 
gular being), Colin M'Laurin (insane), Colin, and I, who have luckily 
kept our wits. I also saw this morning a Mr. Low, a youth of great 
learning, who has written a good deal on the early history of Scot- 
land.* He is a good-looking, frank, gentlemanlike lad ; with these 
good gifts only a parish schoolmaster in Aberdeenshire. Having won 
a fair holiday I go to see Miss Kemble for the first time. It is two 
or three years since I have been in a theatre, once my delight. 

1 "Little Walter," Thomas Scott's son, who 3 Emanuel de Fellenburg, who died in 1844. 
went to India in 1826, an<e, p. 65. He became ♦ "The History of Scotland from the Earliest 

a General in the Indian Army, and died in Period to the Middle of the Ninth Century," 

1873. by the Rev. Alex. Low. 8vo, Edinburgh, 1826. 

■■' ^ntid VI. 617. —See Miic. Prose Works, vol. xx. pp. 374-6. 



494 JOURNAL [June 

June 17. — Went last night to theatre, and saw Miss Fanny Kem- 
ble's Isabella,' which was a most creditable performance. It has 
much of the genius of Mrs. Siddons, her aunt. She wants her beau- 
tiful countenance, her fine form, and her matchless dignity of step 
and manner. On the other hand. Miss Fanny Kemble has very ex- 
pressive, though not regular, features, and what is worth it all, great 
energy mingled with and chastened by correct taste. I suffered by 
the heat, lights, and exertion, and will not go back to-night, for it has 
purchased me a sore headache this theatrical excursion. Besides, 
the play is Mrs. Beverley,* and I hate to be made miserable about do- 
mestic distress, so I keep my gracious presence at home to-night, 
though I love and respect Miss Kemble for giving her active support 
to her father in his need, and preventing Covent Garden from coming 
down about their ears. I corrected proofs before breakfast, attended 
Court, but was idle in the forenoon, the headache annoying me much. 
Dinner will make me better. And so it did. I wrote in the evening 
three pages, and tolerably well, though I may say with the Emperor 
Titus (not Titus Oates) that I have lost a day.. 

June 18, \Blair-Adani\. — Young John Colquhoun of Killermont 
and his wife breakfasted with us, — a neat custom that, and saves wine 
and wassail. Then to Court, and arranged for our departure for 
Blair-Adam, it being near midsummer when the club meets. Anne 
with me, and Sir Adam Ferguson. The day was execrable. Our 
meeting at Blair-Adam was cordial, but our numbers diminished ; the 
good and very clever Lord Chief-Baron' is returned to his own coun- 
try, with more regrets than in Scotland usually attend a stranger. 
Will Clerk has a bad cold, [Thomas] Thomson is detained, but the 
Chief Commissioner, Admiral Adam, Sir Adam, John Thomson and 
I, make an excellent concert. I only hope our venerable host will not 
fatigue himself. To-morrow we go to Culross, which Sir Robert Pres- 
ton is repairing, and the wise are asking for whose future enjoy- 
ment. He is upwards of ninety, but still may enjoy the bustle of 
Hfe. 

June 19. — Arose and expected to work a little, but a friend's 
house is not favourable ; you are sure to want the book you have not 
brought, and are in short out of sorts, like the minister who could 
not preach out of his own pulpit. There is something fanciful in 
this, and something real too, and I have forgot my watch and left half 
my glasses at home. 

Off we set at half-past eight o'clock. Lord Chief -Commissioner be- 
ing left at home owing to a cold. We breakfasted at Luscar, a place 
belonging to Adam Rolland, but the gout had arrested him at Edin- 
burgh, so we were hospitably received by his family. The weather 
most unpropitious, very cold and rainy. After breakfast to Culross, 

» Southerne's Fatal Marriage. 3 Sir Samuel Shepherd. —See ante, p. 34 n. 

» In the Gamester by Moore. 



1830.] JOURNAL 495 

where the veteran, Sir Robert Preston^ showed us his curiosities. Life 
has done as much for him as most people. In his ninety-second year 
he has an ample fortune, a sound understanding, not the least decay 
of eyes, ears, or taste ; is as big as two men, and eats like three. Yet 
he too experiences the singula jproedantur anni, and has lost some- 
thing since I last saw him. If his appearance renders old age toler- 
able, it does not make it desirable. But I fear when death comes we 
shall be unwilling for all that to part with our bundle of sticks. Sir 
Robert amuses himself with repairing the old House of Culross, built 
by the Lord Bruce of Kinloss. To what use it is destined is not very 
evident to me. It is too near his own comfortable mansion of Val- 
leyfield to be useful as a residence, if indeed it could be formed into 
a comfortable modern house. But it is rather like a banqueting 
house. Well, he follows his own fancy. We had a sumptuous cold 
dinner. Adam grieves it was not hot, so little can war and want 
break a man to circumstances. We returned to Blair- Adam in the 
evening, through " the wind but and the rain." For June weather it is 
the most ungenial I have seen. The beauty of Culross consists in 
magnificent terraces rising on the sea-beach, and commanding the 
opposite shore of Lothian ; the house is repairing in the style of James 
the Sixth. The windows have pediments like Heriot's Work.^ There 
are some fine relics of the old Monastery, with large Saxon arches. 
At Luscar I saw with pleasure the painting by Raeburn, of my old 
friend Adam Rolland, Esq.,^ who was in the external circumstances, 
but not in frolic or fancy, my prototype for Paul Pleydell." 

June 20. — We settled this morning to go to church at Lochore, 
that is, at Ballingray ; but when we came to the earthly paradise so 
called, we were let off for there was no sermon, for which I could not 
in my heart be sorry. So, after looking at Lochore, back we came to 
lounge and loiter about till dinner-time. The rest of the day was 
good company, good cheer, and good conversation. Yet to be idle 
here is not the thing, and to be busy is impossible, so I wish myself 
home again in spite of good entertainment. We leave to-night after 
an early dinner, and I will get to work again. 

June 21, [Udinburgh]. — Wrote to Walter a long letter. The day 
continued dropping occasionally, but Sir Adam was in high fooling, 
and we had an amazing deal of laughing. We stole a look at the 
Kiery Craigs between showers. In the meantime George Cheape and 
his son came in. We dined at half -past three, but it was seven ere 
we set off, and did not reach the house in Shandwick Place till eleven 
at night. Thus ended our Club for the year 1830, its thirteenth an- 



» Sir Robert Preston, Bart., died in May, 1834, * The "frolic and fancy " of Councillor Pley- 

aged ninety- five. —J. g. l. dell were commonly supposed to have been 

a Wprmt'c TTnQnital Fdinh.iro'h fonxid in Andrew Crosbie, Advocate, but as 

Heriots Hospital, Edmburgh. (.^.^g^^ig ^.^^ ^,^^^ g^^^^ '^^^ ^^^^ fourteen, 

' See ante, p. 460 note, and for sketch or and had retired from the bar for some years, 

Adam Rolland of Cask, Cockburn's Memorials, the latter could scarcely have known him per- 

pp. 360-3. sonally. See p. 460 n. 



496 JOURNAL [June 

niversary. Its numbers were diminished by absence and indisposi- 
tion, but its spirit was unabated. 

June 22. — Finished proofs and some copy in the morning. Re- 
turned at noon, and might have laboured a good day's work, but was 
dull, drowsy, and indolent, and could not, at least did not, write above 
half a page. It was a day lost, and indeed it is always with me the 
consequence of mental indolence for a day or two, so I had a suc- 
cession of eating and dozing, which I am ashamed of, for there was 
nothing to hinder me but " thick-coming fancies." Pshaw, rabbit un ! 

June 23. — Worked well this morning, and then to Court. At two 
called on Mr. Gibson, and find him disposed for an instalment. Cadell 
has £10,000, and Gibson thinks £12,000 will pay 2s. 6d. I wish it 
could be made three shillings, which would be £15,000. 

Presided at a meeting of the Bannatyne Club. The Whigs made 
a strong party to admit Kennedy of Dunure, which set aside Lord 
Medwyn, who had been longer on the roll of candidates. If politics 
get into this Club it will ruin the literary purpose of the meeting, 
and the general good-humour with which it has gone on. I think it 
better to take the thing good-humouredly, and several of them volun- 
teered to say that Medwyn must be the next, which will finish all a 
Vaimahle. If it come to party-work I will cut and run. Confound it ! 
my eyes are closing now, even now, at half -past four. 

Dined with Lord Medwyn, a pleasant party. The guest of impor- 
tance, Mrs. Peter Latouche from Dublin, a fine old dame, who must 
have been beautiful when young, being pleasant and comely at seven- 
ty, — saintly it appears. 

June 24. — Hard work with Ballantyne's proofs and revises, but 
got them accomplished. I am at the twelfth hour, but I think I shall 
finish this silly book before the tenth of July. 

Notwithstanding this sage resolution I did not write half a page 
of the said Demonology this day. I went to the Court, called on Mr. 
Cadell, returned dog-tired, and trifled my time with reading the trial 
of Corder. What seemed most singular v/as his love to talk of the 
young woman he had murdered, in such a manner as to insinuate the 
circumstances of his own crime, which is a kind of necessity which 
seems to haunt conscience-struck men. Charles Sharpe came in at 
night and supped with us. 

June 25. — Slept little later than I should. The proofs occupied 
the morning. The Court and walk home detained me till two. When 
I returned, set to work and reached page 210 of copy. There is lit- 
tle or nothing else to say. Skene was with me for a few minutes. I 
called at Cadell's also, who thinks a dividend of 3s. per pound will be 
made out.^ This will be one-half of the whole debts, and leave a 
sinking fund for the rest about £10,000 a year " if the beast live and 
the branks bide hale." '"' 

1 A second dividend of 3s. was declared on ' An old Galloway proverb. Branks, "a sort 
December 17, 1830. of bridle used by country people in riding." — 



1830.] JOURNAL 497 

June 26. — Miss Kemble and her father breakfasted here, with Sir 
Adam and Lady Ferguson. I like the young lady very much, re- 
specting both her talents and the use she has made of them. She 
seems merry, unaffected, and good-humoured. She said she did not 
like the apathy of the Scottish audiences, who are certain not to give 
applause upon credit. I went to the Court, but soon returned ; a 
bad cold in my head makes me cough and sneeze like the Dragon of 
Wantley. The Advocates' Bill' is read a third time. I hardly know 
whether to wish it passed or no, and am therefore in utrumque pa- 
ratus. 

June 27. — In the morning worked as usual at proofs and copy of 
my infernal Demonology — a task to which my poverty and not my 
will consents. About twelve o'clock I went to the country to take a 
day's relaxation. We {i.e. Mr. Cadell, James Ballantyne, and I) went 
to Prestonpans, and, getting there about one, surveyed the little vil- 
lage, where my aunt and I were lodgers for the sake of sea-bathing 
in 1778, 1 believe. I knew the house of Mr. Warroch, where we lived, 
— a poor cottage, of which the owners and their family are extinct. 
I recollected my juvenile ideas of dignity attendant on the large gate, 
a black arch which lets out upon the sea. I saw the church where I 
yawned under the inflictions of a Dr. M'Cormick, a name in which 
dulness seems to have been hereditary. I saw the Links where I ar- 
ranged my shells upon the turf, and swam my little skiffs in the pools. 
Many comparisons between the man, and the recollections of my kind 
aunt, of old George Constable, who, I think, dangled after her ; of 
Dalgetty, a veteran half-pay lieutenant, who swaggered his solitary 
walk on the parade, as he called a little open space before the same 
pool. We went to Preston, and took refuge from a thunder-plump 
in the old tower. I remembered the little garden where I was 
crammed with gooseberries, and the fear I had of Blind Harry's 
spectre of Fawdon showing his headless trunk at one of the windows. 
I remembered also a very good-natured pretty girl (my Mary Duff), 
whom I laughed and romped with and loved as children love. She 
was a Miss Dalrymple, daughter of Lord Westhall," a Lord of Session ; 
was afterwards married to Anderson of Winterfield, and her daugh- 
ter is now [the spouse] of my colleague Robert Hamilton. So strange- 
ly are our cards shuffled. I was a mere child, and could feel none 
of the passion which Byron alleges, yet the recollection of this good- 
humoured companion of my childhood is like that of a morning 
dream, nor should I now greatly like to dispel it by seeing the orig- 
inal, who must now be sufficiently time-honoured. 

Well, we walked over the field of battle, saw the Prince's Park, 
Cope's Loan, marked by slaughter in his disastrous retreat, the thorn- 

Jamieson. Burns in a Scotch letter to Nicol i Relating to the changes in the Court ot 

of June 1, 1787, says, "I'll be in Dumfries the Session. 

morn gif the beast be to the fore and the , ' David Dalrymple of Westhall was a judge 

branks bide hale."— Cromek's Reliques, p. 29. of the Court of Session from 1777 till his death 



in 1784, 



32 



498 JOURNAL [June, 1830. 

tree which marks the centre of the battle, and all besides that was to 
be seen or supposed. We saw two broadswords, found on the field 
of battle, one a Highlander's, an Andrew Ferrara, another the dra- 
goon's sword of that day. Lastly, we came to Cockenzie, where Mr. 
Francis Cadell, my publisher's brother, gave us a kind reception. I 
was especially glad to see the mother of the family, a fine old lady, 
who was civil to my aunt and me, and, I recollect well, used to have 
us to tea at Cockenzie. Curious that I should long afterwards have 
an opportunity to pay back this attention to her son Robert. Once 
more, what a kind of shuffling of the hand dealt us at our nativity. 
There was Mrs. F. Cadell, and one or two young ladies, and some fine 
fat children. I should be a bastard to the time* did I not tell our fare. 
We had a tiled whiting,' a dish unknown elsewhere, so there is a 
bone for the gastronomers to pick. Honest John Wood,' my old 
friend, dined with us. I only regret I cannot understand him, as he 
has a very powerful memory, and much curious information. The 
whole day of pleasure was damped by the news of the King's death; 
it was fully expected, however, as the termination of his long illness. 
But he was very good to me personally, and a kind sovereign. The 
common people and gentry join in their sorrow. Much is owing to 
a kindly recollection of his visit to this country, which gave all men 
an interest in him. 

June 29. — The business of the Court was suspended, so back I 
came, without stop or stay, and to work went L As I had risen early 
I was sadly drowsy ; however, I fought and fagged away the day. I 
am still in hope to send my whole manuscript to Ballantyne before 
the 10th July. Well, I must devise something to myself ; I must do 
something better than this Demonological trash. It is nine o'clock, 
and I am weary, yea, my very spirit's tired.* After ten o'clock Mr. 
Daveis,^ an American barrister of eminence, deputed to represent the 
American States in a dispute concerning the boundaries of Nova 
Scotia and New England, with an introduction to me from Mr. Tick- 
nor, called. I was unable to see him, and put him off till to-morrow 
morning at breakfast. 

June 30. — The new Eang was proclaimed, and the College of Jus- 
tice took the oaths. I assisted Mr. Daveis, who is a pleasant and well- 
informed man, to see the ceremony, which, probably, he would hardly 
witness in his own country. A day of noise and bustle. We dined 
at Mr. and Mrs. Strange, chere exquise I suppose. Many friends of 
the Arniston family. I thought there was some belief of Lord Mel- 
ville losing his place. That he may exchange it for another is very 
likely, but I think the Duke will not desert him who adhered to him 
so truly. 

> King John, Act i. Sc. 1. «9fi of Scotland, etc., was deaf and dumb; he 

„ . .... o . J ■ .n, V, . II.-, A died iu 1838 in his seventy-fourth year, 

u l^ ';''^!V"^.'^ul^? .'° vH® ^"" ' ^""^ ^'^^'^ * Coriolanm, Act i. Sc. 9 

haddocks "and '' tiled whitings are now un- , cbarles S. Daveis of Portland, a friend of 

known to the fisher-folk of Cockenzie. ^f^ George Ticknor, in whose Life (2 vols. Svo, 

3 John Philip Wood, editor of Douglas's Peer- Boston, 1876) he is often mentioned. 



JULY 

July 1. — Mr. Daveis breakfasted with me. On nearer acquaint- 
ance, I was more galled by some portion of continental manners than 
I had been at first, so difiicult is it for an American to correct his 
manner to our ideas of perfect good-breeding.* I did all that was 
right, however, and asked Miss Ferrier, whom he admires prodigious- 
ly, to meet him at dinner. Hither came also a young friend, so I 
have done the polite thing every way. Thomson also dined with us. 
After dinner I gave my strangers an airing round the Corstorphine 
hills, and returned by the Cramond road. I sent to Mr. Gibson, Ca- 
dell's project for Lammas, which raises £15,000 for a dividend of 3s. 
to be then made. I think the trustees should listen to this, which is 
paying one-half of my debt. 

July 2. — Have assurances from John Gibson that £15,000 
should be applied as I proposed. If this can be repeated yearly up 
to 1835 the matter is ended, and well ended; yet, woe's me! the 
public change their taste, and their favourites get old. Yet if I was 
born in 1771, 1 shall only be sixty in 1831, and, by the same reason- 
ing, sixty-four in 1835, so I may rough it out, yet be no Sir Robert 
Preston. . At any rate, it is all I have to trust to. 

I did a morning's task, and was detained late at the Court ; came 
home, ate a hearty dinner, slumbered after it in spite of my teeth, 
and made a poor night's work of it. One's mind gets so dissipated 
by the fagging, yet insignificant, business of the offices ; my release 
comes soon, but I fear for a term only, for I doubt if they will carry 
through the Court Bill. 

July 3. — My day began at seven as usual. Sir Adam came to 
breakfast. I read Southey's edition of the Pilgrhn's Progress^ and 
think of reviewing the same. I would I had books at hand. To the 
Court, and remained till two ; then went to look at the drawings for 
repairing Murthly, the house of Sir John or James Stewart, now 
building by Gillespie Graham, and which he has planned after the 
fashion of James vi.'s reign, a kind of bastard Grecian' — very fanci- 

1 An amusing illustration of the diflBculty of easy to recognise the same individuals. . . . 

seeing ourselves as others see us may be found But after a while, 'you see the same rough flg- 

written twenty-five years later by Nathaniel ure through all the finery, and become sensible 

Hawthorne, where the author of the Scarlet that John Bull cannot make himself fine, what- 

Letter expresses in like manner his surprise at ever he may put on. He is a rough animal, 

thewant of refinement m Englishmen: — "I had and his female is well adapted to him.'" — 

been struck by the very rough aspect of these Hawthorne and His Wife, vol. ii. p. 70. 2 vols. 

John Bulls in their morning garb, their coarse 8vo. Cambridge. U.S.A., 1884. 

frock-coats, grey hats, check trousers, and ^ Architects style it Elizabethan, but Sir Wal- 

Btout shoes; at dinner-table it was not at first ter'sterm is not inappropriate. 



500 JOURNAL [July 

ful and pretty though. Read Hone's JSvery-day Book, and with a 
better opinion of him than I expected from his anti-religious frenzy. 
We are to dine with the Skenes to-day. 

Which we did accordingly, meeting Mr. and Mrs. Strange, Lord 
Forbes, and other friends. 

July 4. — Was a complete and serious day of work, only inter- 
rupted in the evening by , who, with all the freedom and ease of 

continental manners, gratified me with his gratuitous presence. Yet 
it might have been worse, for his conversation is well enough, but it 
is strange want of tact to suppose one must be alike welcome to a 
stranger at all hours of the day ; but I have stuffed the portfolio, so 
do not grudge half-an-hour. 

July 5. — I was up before seven and resumed my labours, and by 
breakfast-time I had reached p. 133 ; it may reach to 160 or 170 as 
I find space and matter. Buchanan^ came and wrote about fifteen 
of his pages, equal to mine in proportion of three to one. We are 
therefore about p. 138, and in sight of land. At two o'clock went to 
bury poor George Burnet, the son of Gilbert Innes, in as heavy a rain 
as I ever saw. Was in Shandwick Place again by four and made 
these entries. I dine to-day with the Club ; grant Heaven it fair be- 
fore six o'clock ! 

We met at Barry's," and had a gallant dinner, but only few of our 
number was present. Alas ! sixty does not rally to such meetings 
with the alacrity of sixteen, and our Club has seen the space between 
these terms. I was home and abed when Charles arrived and waked 
me. Poor fellow ! he is doing very well with his rheumatic limbs. 

July 6. — I did little this morning but correct some sheets, and 
was at the Court all morning. About two I called at Mr. Cadell's, 
and I learned the dividend was arranged. Sir Adam fell in with us, 
and laid anchors to windward to get an invitation to Cockenzie for 
next year, being struck with my life-like description of a tiled had- 
dock. I came home much fagged, slept for half-an-hour (I don't 
like this lethargy), read / Promessi Sposi, and was idle. Miss Kerr 
dined and gave us music. 

July v. — This morning corrected proofs, with which J. B. pro- 
ceeds lazily enough, and alleges printing reasons, of which he has 
plenty at hand. Though it was the Teind Wednesday the devil 
would have it that this was a Court of Session day also for a cause 
of mine ; so there I sat hearing a dozen cases of augmentation of 
stipend pleaded, and wondering within myself whether anything can 
be predicated of a Scottish parish, in which there cannot be discov- 
ered a reason for enlarging the endowments of the minister. I re- 
turned after two, with a sousing shower for companion ; I got very 
wet and very warm. But shall we go mourn for that, my dear ? ' I 



> An amanuensis who was employed by Scott 2 British Hotel, 70 Queen St. 

at this time. 3 See Winter^s Tale, Act iv. Sc. 2. 



1830.] JOURNAL 501 

rather like a flaw of weather ; it shows something of the old man is 
left. I had Mr. Buchanan to help pack my papers and things, and 
got through part of that unpleasant business. 

July 8. — I had my letters as usual, but no proofs till I was just 
going out. Returning from the Court met Skene, who brought me 
news that our visit was at an end for Saturday, poor Colin having 
come to town very unwell. I called to see him, and found him suf- 
fering under a degree of slow palsy, his spirits depressed, and his 
looks miserable, worse a great deal than when I last saw him. His 
wife and daughter were in the room, dreadfully distressed. We 
spoke but a few words referring to recovery and better days, which, 
I suspect, neither of us hoped.^ For I looked only on the ghost of 
my friend of many a long day ; and he, while he said to see me did 
him good, must have had little thought of our meeting under better 
auspices. We shall, of course, go straight to Abbotsford, instead of 
travelling by Harcus as we intended. 

July 9. — Two distressed damsels on my hands, one, a friend of 
Harriet Swinton, translates from the Italian a work on the plan of / 
Promessi Sposi, but I fear she must not expect much from the trade. 
A translation with them is a mere translation — that is, a thing which 
can be made their own at a guinea per sheet, and they will not have 
an excellent one at a higher rate. Second is Miss Young, daughter 
of the excellent Dr. Young of Hawick. If she can, from her father's 
letters and memoranda, extract materials for a fair simple account of 
his life, I would give my name as editor, and I think it might do, but 
for a large publication — Palabras, neighbour Dogberry,^ the time is 
by. Dined with the Bannatyne, where we had a lively party. 
Touching the songs, an old roue must own an improvement in the 

1 See ante, January 15, 1828, p. 346. Mr. Mrs. Skene and you, with some of our young 

Mackenzie of Portmore died in September, friends, will do us the pleasure to come here 

1830, when Sir Walter wrote Mr. Skene the for a few days. We see how separations may 

following letter:— happen among friends, and should not neglect 

"Dear Skene, — I observe from the papers the opportunity of being together while we can. 
that our invaluable friend is no more. I have Besides, entre nous, it is time to think what is 
reason to think, that as I surmised when I saw to be done about the Society, as the time of 
him last, the interval has been a melancholy my retirement draws nigh, and I am determin- 
one, at least to those who had to watch the ed, at whatever loss, not to drag out the last 
progress. I never expected to see his kind face sands of my life in that sand-cart of a place, 
more, after I took leave of him in Charlotte the Parliament House. I think it hurt poor 
Square; yet the certainty that such must be the Colin. This is, however, subject for future con- 
case is still a painful shock, as I can never hope sideration, as I have not breathed a syllable 
again to meet, during the remaining span of about resigning the Chair to any one, but it 
my own life, a friend in whom high talents for must soon follow as a matter of course.* 
the business of life were more happily mingled "Should you think of writing to let me know 
with all those affections which form "the dear- how the distressed family are, you may direct, 
est part of human intercourse. In that respect during the beginning of next week, to Drum- 
I believe his like hardly is to be found. I hope lanrig, Thornhill, Dumfriesshire. 
Mrs. Skene and you will make my assurance "My kind love attends my dear Mrs. Skene, 
of deep sympathy, of which they know it is ex- girls, boys, and all the family, and I am, al- 
pressed by a friend of poor Colin of fifty years' ways yours, Walter Scott. 

^*^°^\°S- , . . . . .„ , " AsBcytBFOUD, mh Stptember [ISZOy 

" I hope my young friend, his son, will keep 

his father's example before his eyes. His best * Much Ado about Nothing, Act iii. Sc. 5. 
friend cannot wish him a better model. 

" I am just setting off to the West for a long- « g;, Salter had been President of the Royal Society 

promised tour of a week. I shall be at Abbots- of Edinburgh for some years ; his resigTiation was not ac- 

ford after Monday, 27th current, and I hope cepted, and he retained the office until he died. 



502 JOURNAL [July 

times, when all paw-paw words are omitted, and naughty innuendos 
gazes. One is apt to say — 

" Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art, 
A good mouth-filling oath, and leave 'in sooth,* 
And such protest of pepper-gingerbread."* 

I think there is more affectation than improvement in the new mode. 

July 10. — Kose rather late : the champagne and turtle, I suppose, 
for our reform includes no fasting. Then poor Ardwell came to 
breakfast ; then Dr. Young's daughter. I have projected with Cadell 
a plan of her father's life, to be edited by me.' If she does but tol- 
erably, she may have a fine thing of it. Next came the Court, where 
sixty judgments were pronounced and written by the Clerks, I hope 
all correctly, though an error might well happen in such a crowd, and 

, one of the best men possible, is beastly stupid. Be that as it 

may, off came Anne, Charles, and I for Abbotsford. We started 
about two, and the water being too deep didn't arrive till past seven ; 
dinner, etc., filled up the rest of the day. 

July 11, Abbotsford. — Corrected my proofs and the lave of it till 
about one o'clock. Then started for a walk to Chiefswood, which I 
will take from station to station,' with a book in my pouch. I have 
begun Lawrie Todd, which ought, considering the author's undisputed 
talents, to have been better. He might have laid Cooper aboard, but 
he follows far behind. No wonder : Gait, poor fellow, was in the 
King's Bench when he wTote it. No whetter of genius is necessity, 
though said to be the mother of invention. 

July 12. — Another wet day, but I walked twice up and down the 
terrace, and also wrote a handsome scrap of copy, though mystified 
by the want of my books, and so forth. Dr. and Mrs. Lockhart and 
Violet came to luncheon and left us to drive on to Peebles. I read 
and loitered and longed to get my things in order. Got to work, 
however, at seven in the morning. 

July 13. — Now " what a thing it is to be an ass !"* I have a let- 
ter from a certain young man, of a sapient family, announcing that 
his sister had so far mistaken my attentions as to suppose I was 
only prevented by modesty from stating certain wishes and hopes, 
etc. The party is a woman of rank : so far my vanity may be satis- 
fied. But to think I would wish to appropriate a grim grenadier 
made to mount guard at St. James's ! The Lord deliver me ! I ex- 
cused myself with little picking upon the terms, and there was no oc- 
casion for much delicacy in repelling such an attack. 

July 14. — The Court of Session Bill is now committed in the 
House of Lords, so it fairly goes on this season, and I have, I sup- 
pose, to look for my conge. I can hardly form a notion of the possi- 

1 1 King Henry IV., Act ui. Sc. 1. 3 Sir Walter had seats placed at suitable di8- 

2 The biography here spoken of was not pub- tances between the house and Chiefswood. 
lished. * Titus Andronicus, Act iv. Sc. 2. 



1830.J JOURNAL 503 

bility that I am not to return to Edinburgh. My clerk Buchanan 
came here, and assists me to finish the Demonology Letters, and be 
d — d to them. But it is done to their hand. Two ladies, Mrs. La- 
touche of Dublin, and her niece, Miss Boyle, came to spend a day or 
two. The aunt is a fine old lady ; the conversation that of a serious 
person frightened out of her wits by the violence and superstition of 
our workers of miracles in the west.' Miss Boyle is a pretty young 
woman, rather quiet for an Irish lass. 

July 16. — We visited at Lessudden yesterday, and took Mrs. La- 
touche thither. To-day, as they had left us, we went alone to Major 
John's house of Ravenswood and engaged a large party of cousins to 
dine to-morrow. 

In the evening a party of foreigners came around the door, and 
going out I found Le Comte Ladislaus de Potocki, a great name in 
Poland, with his lady and brother-in-law, so offered wine, coffee, tea, 
etc. The lady is strikingly pretty. If such a woman as she had 
taken an affection for a lame baronet, nigh sixty years old, it would 
be worth speaking about ! I have finished the Demonology.'^ 

July 17. — Another bad day, wet past all efforts to walk, and 
threatening a very bad harvest. Persecuted with begging letters ; 
an author's Pegasus is like a post-chaise leaving the door of the inn : 
the number of beggars is uncountable. The language they hold of 
my character for charity makes my good reputation as troublesome 
as that of Joseph Surface.' A dinner of cousins, the young Laird of 
Raeburn, so he must be called, though nearly as old as I am, at their 
head. His brother Robert, who has been in India for forty years, 
excepting one short visit : a fine manly fellow, who has belled the cat 
with fortune, and held her at bay as a man of mould may. Being 
all kinsmen and friends, we made a merry day of our re-union. All 
left at night. 

July 18. — 

" Time runs, I know not how, away." 

Here am I beginning the second week of my vacation — though 
what needs me note that ? — vacation and session will probably be the 
same to me in the future. The long remove must then be looked to, 
for the final signal to break up, and that is a serious thought. 

I have corrected two sets of proofs, one for the mail, another for 
the Blucher to-morrow. 

\No entry between July 18 and September 5.] 

[Mr. Lockhart remarks that it was during this interval that the 

1 For an account of these "miracles" see dressed to J. G. Lockhart, Esq., was published 

Peace in Believing— & memoir of Isabella Camp- before the end of the year in Murray's Family 

bell of Fernicarry. Roseneath, 8vo, 1829. Library. 

" Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft, ad- • School for Scandal. 



504 JOURNAL [July, 1830. 

tigliest point of his recovery was reached. The following little note 
accompanied the review of Southey's Bunyan to Chiefswood on Au- 
gust 6th : — 

"Dear Lockhart, I send you the enclosed. I intended to have 
brought it myself with help of * Daddy Dun,' but I find the weather 
is making a rain of it to purpose. 

" I suppose you are all within doors, and the little gardeners all 
off work.— Yours, W. S."] 

A playful yet earnest petition, showing Sir Walter's continued 
solicitude for the welfare of the good " Dominie Sampson," was also 
written at this time to the Duke of Buccleuch :— 

" Abbotsford, 20/A August. 

" The minister of having fallen among other black cocks of 

the season, emboldens me once more to prefer my humble request in 
favour of George Thomson, long tutor in this family. His case is so 
well known to your Grace that I would be greatly to blame if I en- 
larged upon it. His morals are irreproachable, his talents very re- 
spectable. He has some oddity of manner, but it is far from attach- 
ing to either the head or the heart. . . . 

" It would be felt by me among one of the deepest obligations of 
the many which I owe to the house of Buccleuch. I daresay your 
Grace has shot a score of black game to-day. Pray let your name- 
sake bag a parson." 



SEPTEMBER 

September 5. — In spite of resolution I have left my Diary for some 
weeks, I cannot tell why. We have had the usual number of travel- 
ling Counts and Countesses, Yankees male and female, and a Yankee- 
Doodle-Dandy into the bargain, a smart young Virginia man. We 
have had friends of our own also, the Miss Ardens, young Mrs. Mor- 
ritt and Anne Morritt, most agreeable visitors.^ Cadell came out 
here yesterday with his horn filled with good news. This will in ef- 
fect put an end to the trust ; only the sales and produce must be 
pledged to insure the last £15,000 and the annuity interest of £600. 
In this way Mr. Cadell will become half -partner in the remaining vol- 



1 Sir Walter had written to Morritt on his 
retirement from the Court of Session, and his 
old friend responded in the following cordial 
letter: — 

" November, 1830. 

"My dear Scott, — ... I am sorry to read 
what you tell me of your lameness, but legs 
are not so obedient to many of us at our age as 
they were twenty years ago, non immunes ab 
illis malis sumus, as the learned Partridge and 
Lilly's Grammar tells us. I find mine swell, 
and am forced to bandage, and should not ex- 
ert them with impunity in walking as I used 
to do, either in long walks or in rough ground. 
I am glad, however, you have escaped from the 
Court of Session, even at the risk of sometimes 
feeling the want you allude to of winter socie- 
ty. You think you shall tire of solitude in 
these months: and in spite of books and the 
love of them, I have discovered by experience 
the possibility of such a feeling; but can we 
not in some degree remedy this? Why should 
we both be within two days' march of each 
other and not sometimes together, as of old ? 
How I have enjoyed in your house the sum- 
mum bonum of Sir Wm. Temple's philosophy, 
' something which is not Home and yet with 
the liberty of Home, which is not Solitude, and 
yet hath the ease of Solitude, and which is only 
found in the house of an old friend. ' Our sum- 
mer months are well provided with summer 
friends. You have plenty and to spare of 
sight -seers. Lions, and their hunters, and I 
have travellers, moor-shooters, etc., in equal 
abundance, but now when the country is aban- 
doned, and Walter is leaving you, how 1 wish 
you would bring dear Anne and partake for a 
while our little circle here — we stir not till 
Christmas— if before that time such a pleasure 
could be attainable. Well, then, for auld lang 
syne, will you not, now that the Session has 
no claim on you, combine our forces against 
the possibility of ennui. If you will do this, I 



will positively, and in good faith, hold myself 
in readiness to do as much by you in the next 
November, and in every alternate November, 
nor shall the month ever pass without bring- 
ing us together. Do not tell me, as Wm. Rose 
would not fail to do if I gave him so good an 
opportunity, that my proposal would be a great- 
er bore than the solitude it destroyed. It shall 
be no such thing, but only the trouble of the 
journey. I feel too, as I grow older, the vis 
inertice, and fancy that locomotion is more dif- 
ficult, but let us abjure the doctrine, for it 
baulks much pleasure. Pray— pray as the chil- 
dren say— come to us, think of it first as not 
impossible, then weigh fairly the objections, 
and if they resolve themselves into mere aver- 
sion to change, overcome them by an assurance 
that the very change will give value to the re- 
sumption of your home avocations. If I plead 
thus strongly, perhaps it is because I feel the 
advantage to myself. Time has made gaps in 
the list of old friends as in yours; young ones, 
though very cheering and useful, are not, and 
cannot be, the same. I enjoy them too when 
present, but in absence I regret the others. 
What remains but to make the most of those 
we have still left when both body and mind 
permit us [to enjoy] them. I have books; also 
a room that shall [be your own], and a [pony] 
off which I can shoot, which I will engage shall 
neither tumble himself or allow you to tumble 
in any excursion on which you may venture. 
Dear Anne will find and make my womenkind 
as happy as you will make me, and we have 
only to beg you to stay long and be most cord- 
ially welcome. . . . Adieu, dear Scott. I fear 
you will not come for all I can say. I could 
almost lose a tooth or a finger (if it were neces- 
sary) to find myself mistaken. Come, and come 
soon; stay long; be assured of welcome. 

"All unite in this and in love to you and 
Anne, with your assured friend, 

"J. B, Morritt." 



506 JOURNAL [Sept. 1830. 

umes of the books following St. Ronan^s ; with all my heart, but he 
must pay well for it, for it is good property. Neither is any value 
stated for literary profits ; yet, four years should have four novels be- 
twixt 1830-4. This at £-2500 per' volume might be £8000, which 
would diminish Mr. Cadell's advance considerably. All this seems 
feasible enough, so my fits of sullen alarm are ill placed. It makes 
me care less about the terms I retire upon. The efforts by which we 
have advanced thus far are new in literature, and w^hat is gained is 
secure. 

[iVb entry between September 5 and December 20.] 



DECEMBER 

December 20. — From September 5 to December 20 is a long gap, 
and I have seen plenty of things worth recollecting, had I marked 
them down when they were gliding past. But the time has gone by. 
When I feel capable of taking it up, I will. 

Little self will jostle out everything else, and my affairs, which in 
some respects are excellent, in others, like the way of the world, are 
far from being pleasant. 

Of good I have the pleasure of saying I have my children well, 
and in good health. The dividend of 3s. in the pound has been 
made to the creditors, and the creditors have testified their sense of 
my labours by surrendering my books, furniture, plate, and curiosi- 
ties. I see some friends of mine think this is not handsomely done. 
In my opinion it is extremely so. There are few things so [easy] as 
to criticise the good things one does, and to show that we ourselves 
would have done [more] handsomely. But those who know the 
world and their own nature are always better pleased with one kind 
action carried through and executed, than with twenty that only glide 
through their minds, while perhaps they tickle the imagination of the 
benevolent Barmecide who supposes both the entertainment and the 
eater. These articles do not amount to less than £10,000 at least, 
and, without dispensing with them entirely, might furnish me with a 
fund for my younger children.^ Now, suppose these creditors had 
not seriously carried their purpose into execution, the transaction 
might have been afterwards challenged, and the ease of mind which 
it produced to me must have been uncertain in comparison. Well I 
one-half of these claims are cleared off, furnished in a great measure 
by one-half issue of the present edition of the Wavertey Novels, which 
had reached the 20th of the series. 

It cannot be expected that twenty more will run off so fast ; the 
later volumes are less favourites, and are really less interesting. Yet 
when I read them over again since their composition, I own I found 
them considerably better than I expected, and I think, if other circum- 
stances do not crush them and blight their popularity, they will make 
their way. Mr. Cadell is still desirous to acquire one-half of the 
property of this part of the work, which is chiefly my own. He pro- 
poses assembling all my detached works of fiction and articles in 
Annuals, so that the whole, supposing I write, as is proposed, six new 

» See Life, vol. x. pp. 10-25. 



508 JOURXAL [Dec. 

volumes, will run the collection to fifty, when it is time to close it. 
Between cash advanced on this property, and a profit on the sale of 
the second part, Mr. Cadell thinks, having taken a year or two years' 
time, to gather a little wind into the bag, I will be able to pay, on my 
part, a further sum of £30,000, or the moiety remaining of the whole 
debts, amounting now to less then £60,000. 

Should this happy period arrive in or about the year 1832 the 
heavy work will be wellnigh finished. For, although £30,000 will 
still remain, yet there is £20,000 actually secured upon my life, and 
the remaining £10,000 is set against the sale of Waverley, which 
shall have been issued ; besides which there is the whole Poetry, Bona- 
parte, and several other articles, equally [available] in a short time to 
pay up the balance, and afford a very large reversion. 

This view cannot be absolutely certain, but it is highly probable, 
and is calculated in the manner in which Building Schemes [are dealt 
with], and is not merely visionary. The year 1833 may probably 
see me again in possession of my estate. 

A circumstance of great consequence to my habits and comforts 
was my being released from the Court of Session on November 1830 
(18th day). My salary, which was £1300, was reduced to £840. My 
friends, just then leaving oflSce, were desirous to patch up the de- 
ficiency with a pension. I do not see well how they could do this 
without being exposed to obloquy, which they shall not be on my 
account. Besides, though £500 a year is a round sum, yet I would 
rather be independent than I would have it. 

My kind friend the Lord Chief -Commissioner offered to interfere 
to have me named a Privy Councillor ; but besides that when one is 
poor he ought to avoid taking rank, I would be much happier if I 
thought any act of kindness was done to help forward Charles ; and, 
having said so much, I made my bow, and declared my purpose of 
remaining satisfied with the article of my knighthood. And here I 
am, for the rest of my life I suppose, with a competent income, which 
I can [increase]. 

All this is rather pleasing, nor have I the least doubt that I could 
make myself easy by literary labour. But much of it looks like 
winding up my bottom for the rest of my life. But there is a worse 
symptom of settling accounts, of which I have felt some signs. 

Last spring. Miss Young, the daughter of Dr. Young, had occa- 
sion to call on me on some business, in which I had hopes of serving 
her. As I endeavoured to explain to her what I had to say, I had 
the horror to find 1 could not make myself understood. I stammered, 
stuttered, said one word in place of another — did all but speak; Miss 
Young went away frightened enough, poor thing; and Anne and 
Violet Lockhart were much alarmed. I was bled with cupping- 
glasses, took medicine, and lived on panada ; but in two or three days 
I was well again. The physicians thought, or said at least, that the 
evil was from the stomach. It is very certain that I have seemed to 



1830.] JOURNAL 509 

speak with an impediment, and I was, or it might be fancied myself, 
troubled with a mispronouncing and hesitation. I felt this particularly 
at the Election, and sometimes in society. This went on till last No- 
vember, when Lord came out to make me a visit. I had for a 

long time taken only one tumbler of whisky and water without the 
slightest reinforcement. This night I took a very little drop, not so 
much as a bumper glass, of whisky altogether. It made no difference 
on my head that I could discover, but when I went to the dressing- 
room 1 sank stupefied on the floor. I lay a minute or two — was not 
found, luckily, gathered myself up, and got to my bed. I was alarm- 
ed at this second warning, consulted Abercrombie and Ross, and got 
a few restrictive orders as to diet. I am forced to attend to them ; 
for, as Mrs. Cole says, *' Lack-a-day ! a thimbleful oversets me." 

To add to these feelings I have the constant increase of my lame- 
ness : the thigh- joint, knee-joint, and ankle-joint. 

December 21. — I walk with great pain in the whole limb, and am 
at every minute, during an hour's walk, reminded of my mortality. I 
should not care for all this, if I was sure of dying handsomely. Ca- 
dell's calculations would be sufficiently firm though the author of 
Waverley had pulled on his last nightcap. Nay, they might be even 
more trustworthy, if Remains, and Memoirs, and such like, were to 
give a zest to the posthumous. But the fear is the blow be not suffi- 
cient to destroy life, and that I should linger on an idiot and a 
show.^ .... 

We parted on good terms and hopes.' But, fall back, fall edge, 
nothing shall induce me to publish what I do not think advantageous 
to the community, or suppress what is. 

Decemher 23. — To add for this day to the evil thereof, I am 
obliged to hold a Black-fishing Court at Selkirk. This is always a very 
unpopular matter in one of our counties, as the salmon never do get 
up to the heads of the waters in wholesome season, and are there in 
numbers in spawning-time. So that for several years during the late 
period, the gentry, finding no advantage from preserving the spawn- 
ing fish, neglected the matter altogether in a kind of dudgeon, and 
the peasantry laid them waste at their will. As the property is very 
valuable, the proprietors down the country agreed to afford some 
additional passage for fish when the river is open, providing they 

1 " From Marlborough's eyes the streams of dotage flow, 
And Swift expires a driveller and a show." 

—Johnson's Vanity of Human Wishes. 

1 Mr. Cadell and Mr. Ballantyne had arrived his library the chief subject of conversation 

at Abbotsford on the 18th, bringing with them during the evening. Next morning Mr. Bal- 

the good news from Edinburgh of the payment lantyne was asked to read aloud a political es- 

of the second dividend, and of the handsome say on Reform— intended to be a Fourth Epistle 

conduct of the creditors. There had been a of Malachi. After careful consideration, the 

painful discussion between them and Sir Wal- critical arbiters concurred in condemning the 

ter during the early part of the winter on Count production, but suggested a compromise. His 

i2o6er« 0/ Paris, particulars of which are given friends left him on the 21st, and the essay, 

in the Life (vol. x. pp. 6, 10-17, 21-23), but they though put in type, was never published, 

found iheir host much better than they had Proof and ms. were finally consigned to the 

ventured to anticipate^ and he made the gift of flames \—Life, vol. x. pp. 21-25. 



510 JOURNAL [Dec. 

will protect the spawning fish during close-time. A new Act has 
been passed, with heavy penalties and summary powers of recovery. 
Some persons are cited under it to-day ; and a peculiar licence of 
poaching having distinguished the district of late years, we shall be 
likely to have some disturbance. They have been holding a meeting 
for reform in Selkirk, and it will be difficult to teach them that this 
consists in anything else save the privilege of obeying only such laws 
as please them. We shall see, but I would have counselled the mat- 
ter to have been delayed for a little season. I shall do my duty, how- 
ever. Do what is right, come what will. 

Six black-fishers were tried, four were condemned. All went very 
quietly till the conclusion, when one of the criminals attempted to 
break out. I stopped him for the time with my own hand.* But 
after removing him from the Court-house to the jail he broke from 
the officers, who are poor, feeble old men, the very caricature of 
peace officers. 

December 24. — This morning my old acquaintance and good 
friend Miss Bell Ferguson died after a short illness : an old friend, 
and a woman of the most excellent condition. The last two or almost 
three years were very sickly. 

A bitter cold day. Anne drove me over to Huntly Burn to see 
the family. I found Colonel Ferguson and Captain John, R.N., in 
deep affliction, expecting Sir Adam hourly. Anne sets off to Mertoun, 
and I remain alone. I wrote to Walter about the project of mak- 
ing my succession in movables. J. B. sent me praises of the work 
I am busy with.' But I suspect a little supercherie, though he pro- 
tests not. He is going to the country without sending me the polit- 
ical article. But he shall either set up or return it, as I won't be 
tutored by any one in what I do or forbear. 

December 25. — I have sketched a political article on a union of 
Tories and an Income Tax. But I will not show my teeth if I. find I 
cannot bite. Arrived at Mertoun, and found with the family Sir John 
Pringle, Major Pringle, and Charles Baillie. Very pleasant music by 
the Miss Pringles. 

December 26, [^Mertouri]. — Prayers after breakfast, being Sunday. 
Afterwards I shut myself up in Mr. Scott's room. He has lately be- 
come purchaser of his grandfather's valuable library, which was col- 
lected by Pope's Lord Marchmont. Part of it is a very valuable col- 
lection of tracts during the great Civil War. I spent several hours 
in turning them over, but I could not look them through with any 
accuracy. I passed my time very pleasantly, and made some extracts, 
however, and will resume my research another day. 

1 An account of this incident is given by an said he; ' if you do, it will be over the body of 

eye-witness, Mr. Peter Rodger, Procurator-Fis- an old man.' Whereupon the other officials 

cal, who says: "The prisoner, thinking it a of the Court came to the Sheriffs assistance 

good chance of escaping, made a movement in and the prisoner was secured."— Craig-Brown's 

direction of the door. This Sir Walter detected Selkirkshire, vol. ii. p. 141. 
in time to descend from the Bench and place 

himself in the desperate man's path. ' Never 1 ' • Count Robert ofParit. 



1830.] JOURNAL 511 

Major Pringle repeated some pretty verses of his own composing. 

I had never a more decided inclination to go loose, yet 1 know I 
had better keep quiet. 

December 27, [Abhotsford], — Commences snow, and extremely bit- 
ter cold. When I returned from Mertouu, half frozen, I took up the 
Magnum, and began to notify the romance called Woodstock, in which 
I got some assistance from Harden's ancient tracts. I ought rather 
to get on with Robert of Paris ; but I have had all my life a longing 
to do something else when I am called to particular labour, — a vile 
contradictory humour which I cannot get rid of. Well, I can work 
at something, so at the Magnum work I. The day was indeed bro- 
ken, great part having been employed in the return from Mertoun. 

December 28. — Drove down to Huntly Burn. Sir Adam very mel- 
ancholy, the death of his sister having come with a particular and 
shocking surprise upon him. After half-an-hour's visit I returned 
and resumed the Magnum. 

December 29. — Attended poor Miss Bell Ferguson's funeral. I 
sat by the Rev. Mr. Thomson. Though ten years younger than me, 
I found the barrier between him and me much broken down. We 
remember it though with more or less accuracy. We took the same 
old persons for subjects of correspondence of feeling and sentiment. 
The difference of ten years is little after sixty has passed. In a cold 
day I saw poor Bell laid in her cold bed. Life never parted with a 
less effort. Letter from Cadell offering to advance on second series 
French Tales. This will come in good time, and keep me easy. He 
proposes views for the Magnum. I fear politics may disappoint 
them. 

December 30. — Meeting at Selkirk to-day about the new road to 
Galashiels. It was the largest meeting I ever saw in Selkirkshire. 
We gain the victory by no less than 14 to 4. I was named one of 
the committee to carry the matter on, so in gaining my victory I think 
I have caught a Tartar, for I have taken on trouble enough. Some 
company, — Lord Napier, Scotts of Harden, Johnstone of Alva, Major 
Pringle. In the evening had some private conversation with H. F. 
S. and R. J., and think there is life in a mussel. More of this here- 
after. 

December 31. — My two young friends left this morning, but not 
without renewing our conversation of last night. We carried on the 
little amusements of the day, and spent our Hogmanay pleasantly 
enough, in spite of very bad auguries. 



1831.— JANUARY 

January 1, 1831. — I cannot say the world opens pleasantly with 
me this new year. I will strike the balance. There are many things 
for which I have reason to be thankful. 

First. — Cadell's plans seem to have succeeded, and he augurs well 
as to the next two years, reckoning £30,000 on the stuff now on hand, 
and £20,000 on the insurance money, and £10,000 to be borrowed 
somehow. This will bring us wonderfully home. 

Second. — Cadell is of opinion if I meddle in politics, and I am 
strongly tempted to do so, I shall break the milk-pail, and threatens 
me with the fate of Basil Hall, who, as he says, destroyed his reputa- 
tion by writing impolitic politics. Well, it would be my risk, and if 
I can do some good, which I rather think I can, is it right or manly 
to keep myself back? 

Third. — I feel myself decidedly weaken in point of health, and am 
now confirmed I have had a paralytic touch. I speak and read with 
embarrassment, and even my handwriting seems to stammer. This 
general failure 

" With mortal crisis doth portend, 
My days to appropinque an end." ^ 

I am not solicitous about this, only if I were worthy I would pray 
God for a sudden death, and no interregnum between I cease to ex- 
ercise reason and I cease to exist. 

The Scotts of Harden, Pringles of Stitehill, and Russells of Ashe- 
stiel, are all here ; I am scarce fit for company though. 

January 2. — Held a great palaver with the Scotts, etc. I find 
my language apt to fail me ; but this is very like to be fancy, and I 
must be cautious of giving way to it. This cautions me against pub- 
lic exertion much more than Cadell's prognostications, which my blood 
rises against, and which are ill calculated to keep me in restraint. 
We dozed through a gloomy day, being the dullest of all possible 
thaws. 

January 3. — I had a letter from the Lord Chief Commissioner, 
mentioning the King's intention to take care of Charles's interests 
and promotion in the Foreign Office, an additional reason why I should 
not plunge rashly into politics, yet not one which I can understand as 
putting a padlock on my lips neither. I may write to L. C. C. that I 

I Hudibras. 



Jan. 1831.] JOURNAL 618 

may be called on to express an opinion on the impending changes, 
that I have an opinion, and a strong one, and that I hope this fresh 
favour [may not be regarded] as padlocking my lips at a time when 
it would otherwise be proper to me to speak or write. I am shocked 
to find that I have not the faculty of delivering myself with facility 
— an embarrassment which may be fanciful, but is altogether as an- 
noying as if real. 

January 4. — A base, gloomy day, and dispiriting in proportion. I 
walked out with Swanston^ for about an hour : everything gloomy as 
the back of the chimney when there is no fire in it. My walk was a 
melancholy one, feeling myself weaker at every step and not very 
able to speak. This surely cannot be fancy, yet it looks something 
like it. If I knew but the extent at which my inability was like to 
stop, but every day is worse than another. I have trifled much time, 
too much ; I must try to get afloat to-morrow, perhaps getting an 
amanuensis might spur me on, for one-half is nerves. It is a sad 
business though. 

January 5. — Very indijfferent, with more awkward feelings than I 
can well bear up against. My voice sunk and my head strangely 
confused. When I begin to form my ideas for conversation expres- 
sions fail me, even in private conversation, yet in solitude they are 
sufficiently arranged. I incline to hold that these ugly symptoms are 
the work of imagination ; but, as Dr. Adam Ferguson,'' a firm man if 
ever there was one in the world, said on such an occasion. What is 
worse than imagination ? As Anne was vexed and frightened, I al- 
lowed her to send for young Clarkson. Of course he could tell but 
little, save what I knew before. 

J'anuary 6. — A letter from Henry Scott about the taking ground 
for keeping the reform in Scotland upon the Scottish principles. I 
will write him my private sentiments, but avoid being a houte-feu. 

Go this day to Selkirk, where I found about 120 and more per- 
sons of that burgh and Galashiels, who were sworn in as special con- 
stables, enough to maintain the peace. What shocked me particularly 
was the weakness of my voice and the confusion of my head attempt- 
ing to address them, which was really a poor affair. On my return I 
found the Rev. Mr. Milne of Quebec, a friend of my sister-in-law. 
Another time would have been better for company, but Captain John 
Ferguson and Mr. Laidlaw coming in to dinner, we got over the day 
well enough. 

January 7. — A fine frosty day, and my spirits lighter. I have a 
letter of great comfort from Walter, who in a manly, handsome, and 
dutiful manner expressed his desire to possess the library and mov- 
ables of every kind at Abbotsford, with such a valuation laid upon 
them as I choose to impose. This removes the only delay to making 

1 John Swanston, a forester at Abbotsford, ' Dr. Ferguson, Sir Adam's father died in 

who did all he could to replace Tom Purdie.— 1816. — See Misc. Prose Works, vol.'xix. pp. 

Life, vol. X. p. G6. 331-33. 
33 



514 JOURNAL [Jan. 

my will. Supposing the literary property to clear the debts by aid 
of insurances and other things, about 1835 it will come into my per- 
son, and I will appoint the whole to work off the heritable debt of 
£10,000. If the literary property can produce that sum, besides 
what it has already done, I would convey it to the three younger 
children. 

January 8. — Spent much time in writing instructions for my last 
will and testament. Sent off parcel by Dr. Milne, who leaves to-day. 
Have up two boys for shop-lifting. Remained at Galashiels till four 
o'clock, and returned starved. Could work none, and was idle all 
evening — try to-morrow for a work-day ; so loiter on. 

January 10. — Went over to Galashiels, and was busied the whole 
time till three o'clock about a petty thieving affair, and had before me 
a pair of gallows'-birds, to whom I could say nothing for total want 
of proof, except, like the sapient Elbow, Thou shalt continue there ; 
know thou, thou shalt continue.* A little gallow brood they were, 
and their fate will catch them. Sleepy, idle, and exhausted on this. 
Wrought little or none in the evening. 

Wrote a long letter to Henry [Scott], who is a fine fellow, and 
what I call a heart of gold. He has sound parts, good sense, and is 
a true man. Also, I wrote to my excellent friend the Lord Chief 
[Commissioner]. I thought it right to say that I accepted with 
gratitude his Majesty's goodness, but trusted it w^as not to bind me to 
keep my fingers from pen and ink should a notion impress me that I 
could help the country. I walked a little, to my exceeding refresh- 
ment. I am using that family ungratefully. But I will not, for a 
punctilio, avoid binding, if I can, a strong party together for the King 
and country, and if I see I can do anything, or have a chance of it, I 
will not fear for the skin-cutting. It is the selfishness of this genera- 
tion that drives me mad. 

"A hundred pounds? 
Ha! thou hast touched me nearly." 

I will get a parcel copied to-morrow ; wrote several letters at night. 
January 11. — Wrote and sent off three of my own pages in the 
morning, then walked with Swanston. I tried to write before din- 
ner, but, with drowsiness and pain in my head, made little way. My 
friend Will Laidlaw came in to dinner, and after dinner kindly offered 
his services as amanuensis. Too happy was I, and I immediately 
plunged him into the depths of Count Robert, so we got on three or 
four pages, worth perhaps double the number of ptint. I hope it did 
not take him too short, but after all to keep the press going with- 
out an amanuensis is impossible, and the publishers may well pay a 
sponsible person. He comes back to-morrow. It eases many of my 

1 See Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc. 1, 



1881.] JOURNAL 515 

anxieties, and I will stick to it. I really think Mr. Laidlaw is pleased 
with the engagement for the time. Sent off six close pages. 

January 12. — I have a visit from Mr. Macdonald the sculptor, who 
wishes to model a head of me. He is a gentlemanlike man, and 
pleasant as most sculptors and artists of reputation are, yet it is an 
awful tax upon time. I must manage to dictate while he models, 
which will do well enough. 

So there we sat for three hours or four, I sitting on a stool 
mounted on a packing-box, for the greater advantage ; Macdonald 
modelling and plastering away, and I dictating, without interval, to 
good-natured Will Laidlaw, who wrought without intermission. It 
is natural to ask, Do I progress ? but this is too feverish a question. 
A man carries no scales about him to ascertain his own value. I al- 
ways remember the prayer of Virgil's sailor in extremity ; — 

" Non jam prima peto Mnestheus, neque vincere certo ; 
Quamquam ! — Sed superent quibus hoc, Neptune, dedisti ! 
Extremes pudeat rediisse : hoc vincite, cives, 
Et prohibete nefas !" ^ 

We must to our oar ; but I think this and another are all that 
even success would prompt me to write ; and surely those that have 
been my defenders 

" Have they so long held out with me untired. 
And stop they now for breath ? Well, be it so." ^ 

January 13. — Went to Selkirk on the business of the new high 
road. I perceive Whytbank and my cousin Colonel Russell of Ashe- 
stiel are disposed to peep into the expenses of next year's outlay, 
which must be provided by loan. This will probably breed strife. 
Wrote a hint of this to Charles Balfour. Agreed with Smith so far 
as contracting for the Bridges at £1200 each. I suspect we are 
something like the good manager who distressed herself with buying 
bargains. 

January 15. — Gave the morning from ten till near two to Mr. 
Macdonald, who is proceeding admirably with his bust. It is bloody 
cold work, but he is an enthusiast and much interested ; besides, I 
can sit and dictate owing to Mr. Laidlaw, and so get forward, while I 
am advancing Lorenzo di Guasco, which is his travelling name. I 
wrote several letters too, and got through some business. Walked, 
and took some exercise between one and three. 

January 16. — Being Sunday, read prayers. Mr. and Mrs. James' 
go to look for a house, which they desire to take in this country. As 

» JBneid v. 194-7 : thus rendered in English Not to b« last make that your aim, 

by Professor Conington :— A.°<* triumph by averting shame. 

'TiB not the palm that Mnestheus teeki: ' King Richard the Third, Act IV. Sc. 2. 

?:t'rthat\iSt1"lu\^otqtrthey ' Mr. G. P. R. Jam^s, author of Richelieu, etc. 

To whom great Neptune wills the day : He afterwards tOOk Maxpopplc for the SCaSOD. 



516 JOURNAL [Jan. 

Anne is ill, the presence of strangers, though they are pleasant, is 
rather annoying. Macdonald continues working to form a new bust 
out of my old scalp. I think it will be the last sitting which I will 
be enticed to. Thanks to Heaven, the work finishes to-morrow.^ 

January 17. — This morning, when I came down-stairs, I found 
Mr. Macdonald slabbering away at the model. He has certainly 
great enthusiasm about his profession, which is a sine qua non. It 
was not till twelve that a post-chaise carried off my three friends. 

I had wrote two hours w^hen Dr. Turner came in, and I had to un- 
fold my own complaints. I w^as sick of these interruptions, and dis- 
missed Mr. Laidlaw, having no hope of resuming my theme with 
spirit. God send me more leisure and fewer friends to peck it away 
by tea-spoonfuls ! 

Another fool sends to entreat an autograph, which he should be 
ashamed in civility to ask, as I am to deny it. I got notice of poor 
Henry Mackenzie's death. He has long maintained a niche in Scot- 
tish Literature — gayest of the gay, though most sensitive of the 
sentimental. 

January 18. — Came down from my bedroom at eight, and took a 
rummage in the way of putting things to rights. Dictated to Laid- 
law till about one o'clock, during which time it was rainy. After- 
wards I walked, sliding about in the mud, and very uncomfortable. 
In fact, there is no mistaking the three sufficients,^ and Fate is now 
straitening its circumvallations round me. Little likely to be better 
than I am. I am heart-whole as a biscuit, and may last on as now 
for eight or ten years ; the thing is not uncommon, considering I am 
only in my sixtieth year. I cannot walk ; but the intense cold 

> Mr. Skene tells us that when No. 39 Castle could say much, but it is better to leave alone 

street was " displenished " in 1826, Scott sent what must be said with painful feeling, and 

him the full-length portrait of himself by Rae- you would be vexectwith reading. 

burn, now at Abbotsford. saying that he did "One thing I will put to rights with all oth- 

not hesitate to claim his protection for the pict- ers respecting my little personal affairs. I am 

ure, which was threatened to be paraded under putting [in order] this house with what it con- 

the hammer of the auctioneer, and he felt that tains, and as Walter will probably be anxious 

his interposition to turn aside that buffet might to have a memorial of my better days, I intend 

admit of being justified. "As a piece of sue- to beg you and my dear Mrs. Skene . . . to have 

cessful art, many might fancy the acquisition, it [the picture] copied by such an artist as you 

but for the sake of the original he knew no ref- should approve of, to supply the blank which 

uge where it was likely to find a truer welcome. must then be made on your hospitable walls 

The picture accordingly remained many years with the shadow of a shade. If the opportu- 

in my possession, but when his health had be- nity should occur of copying the picture to 

gun to break, and the plan of his going abroad your mind, I will be happy to have the copy 

was proposed, I thought it would be proper to as soon as possible. You must not think that 

return the picture, for which purpose I had a I am nervous or foolishly apprehensive that I 

most successful copy made of it, an absolute take these precautions. They are necessary 

facsimile, for when the two were placed beside and right, and if one puts off too long, we 

each other it wasalmost impossible to determine sometimes are unfit for the task when we de- 

which was the original and which the copy." sire to take it up. . . . 

— Reminiscences. Thus forestalling the wish " ^Yhen the weather becomes milder, I hope 

expressed in the afi'ecting letter now given, Mrs. Skene and you. and some of the children, 

which belongs to this day. See anU^ p. 87 n. will come out to brighten the chain of frieud- 

" ilY DEAR Skene,— I have had no very pleas- ship with your truly faithful, 

ant news to send you, as I know it will give "Walter Scott. 

Mrs. Skene and you pain to know that I am "Abbotbsokd, 16 January, 1831." 
suffering under a hundred little ailments which 

have greatly encroached upon the custom of 2 sir W. alludes to Mrs. Piozzi's Tale of The 

the season which I used to take. On this I Three Warnings.— j. a. h. 



1831.J JOURNAL 517 

weather may be to blame in this. My riding is but a scramble, but 
it may do well enough for exercise ; and though it is unpleasant to 
find one's enjoyment of hill and vale so much abridged, yet still when 
I enjoy my books, and am without acute pain, I have but little to 
complain of, considering the life I have led so long. 

"So hap what may; 
Time and the hour run through the roughest day." * 

Mr. Laidlaw came down at ten, and we wrought till one. This 
should be a good thing for an excellent man, and is an important 
thing to me, as it saves both my eyesight and nerves, which last are 
cruelly affected by finding those " who look out of the windows " 
grow gradually darker and darker." Rode out, or more properly, 
was carried out, into the woods to see the course of a new road, 
which may serve to carry off the thinnings of the trees, and for rides. 
It is very well lined, and will serve both for beauty and convenience. 
Mr. Laidlaw engages to come back to dinner, and finish two or three 
more pages. Met my agreeable and lady-like neighbour, Mrs. Brew- 
ster, on my pony, and I was actually ashamed to be seen by her. 

" Sir Dennis Brand, and on so poor a steed." ^ 

I believe detestable folly of this kind is the very last that leaves us. 
One would have thought I ought to have little vanity at this time o' 
day ; but it is an abiding appurtenance of the old Adam, and I write 
for penance what, like a fool, I actually felt. 

January 19. — Wrote on by Mr. Laidlaw's assistance. Things go 
bobbishly enough; we have a good deal finished before dinner. 
Henry Scott comes to dine with me vis-a-vis, and we have a grand 
dish of politics. The friends of old Scotland want but a signal. A 
certain great lawyer says that if Sir W. S. wrote another Malachi it 
would set more men on fire than a dozen associations. This almost 
tempts me. But the canny lad says moreover that to appeal to na- 
tional partiality, i.e. that you should call on Scotsmen to act like 
Scotsmen, is unfair, and he would be sorry it was known he, late and 
future placeman, should encourage such paw-paw doings. Yet if Sir 
W. S. could be got to stand forlorn hope, the legal gentleman would 
suggest, etc., etc. Suggest and be d — d. Sir W. S. knows when to 
[doff] his bonnet, and when to cock it in the face of all and sundry. 
Moreover, he will not be made a cat's-paw of, look you now. 

January 20. — Wrought all morning ; a monstrous packet of let- 
ters at mid-day. Borrow honest Laidlaw's fingers in the evening. I 
hope his pay will recompense him: it is better than " grieve-ing " or 
playing Triptolemus.* Should be, if I am hard-working, 100 guineas, 



1 Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 3. 3 Crabbe's Borough, Letter siii. 

2 Ecclea. xii. 3. * See Pirate. 



518 JOURNAL [Jan. 

which, with his house, cow, and free rent, would save, I believe, some 
paiuful thoughts to him and his amiable wife and children. We 
will see how the matter fudges. Almost finished the first volume. 

January 21. — James Ballantyne in ecstasies at our plan of an 
amanuensis. I myself am sensible that my fingers begin to stam- 
mer — that is, to write one word instead of another very often. I im- 
pute this to fancy, the terrible agency of which is too visible in my 
illness, and it encourages me to hope the fatal warning is yet de- 
ferred. I feel lighter by a million ton since I made this discovery. 
If I can dictate freely, and without hesitation, my fear to speak at 
the meeting about the road was vain terror, and so Andiamo Ca.racci. 
Wrote some letters this afternoon. 

January 22. — Mr. Laidlaw rather late of coming. One of his 
daughters has been ill, and he is an approved physician. Pity when 
one so gifted employs his skill on himself and family for all patients. 
We got on, however, to page 46. 

January 23. — I wrought a little to-day. Walked to Chief swood, 
or rather from it, as far only as Habbie's Howe. Came home, cold 
indeed, but hearty. Slept after dinner. I think the peep, real or 
imaginary, at the gates of death has given me firmness not to mind 
little afflictions, I have jumbled this and the preceding day strange- 
ly, when I went to Chiefswood and Huntly Burn. I thought this a 
week-day. 

January 24. — Worked with Mr. Laidlaw, and, as the snow was on 
the ground, did so without intermission, which must be sinking to 
the spirits. Held on, however. 

January 25, — Same drizzling waste, rendering my footing inse- 
cure, and leaving me no refuge but in sitting at home and working 
till one o'clock. Then retired upon the Sheriff Court processes. 
Bran,' poor fellow, lies yawning at my feet, and cannot think what is 
become of the daily scamper, which is all his master's inability af- 
fords him. This grieves me, by calling back the days of old. But 
1 may call them as I may, 

" Youth winna return, nor the days of lang syne." 

January 26. — I have Skene and Mr. M'Culloch of Ardwell, to the 
relief of my spirits and the diminishing of my time. Mr. Laidlaw 
joined us at dinner. 

Bitter cold. 

January 27. — So fagged with my frozen vigils that I slept till 
after ten. When I lose the first two hours in the morning I can sel- 
dom catch them again during the whole day. 

A friendly visit from Ebenezer Clarkson of Selkirk, a medical 



1 The deer-hound Bran which was presented garry's gift. — See letter to Misfe Edgeworth, 
by Macpherson of Cluny; Nimrod was Glen- printed in Life, vol. ix. p. 345. 



1831.] JOURNAL 519 

gentleman in whose experience and ingenuity I have much confidence, 
as well as his personal regard for myself. He is quite sensible of 
the hesitation of speech of which I complain, and thinks it arises 
from the stomach. Recommends the wild mustard as an aperient. 
But the brightest ray of hope is the chance that I may get some me- 
chanical aid made by Fortune at Broughton Street, which may enable 
me to mount a pony with ease, and to walk without torture. This 
would, indeed, be almost a restoration of my youth, at least of a green 
old age full of enjoyment. The shutting one out from the face of 
living nature is almost worse than sudden death. 

January 28. — I wrote with Laidlaw. It does not work clear ; I 
do not know why. The plot is, nevertheless, a good plot, and full of 
expectation.^ But there is a cloud over me, I think, and interruptions 
are frequent. I creep on, however. 

January 29. — Much in the same way as yesterday, rather feeling 
than making way. Mr. Williams and his brother came in after din- 
ner. Welcome both ; yet the day was not happy. It consumed me 
an afternoon, which, though well employed, and pleasantly, had the 
disagreeable effect of my being kept from useful work. 

January 30. — Snow deep, which makes me alter my purpose of 
going to town to-morrow. For to-day, my friends must amuse them- 
selves as they can. 

January 31 \to February 9, Edinburgh^. — Retain my purpose, 
however, and set out for Edinburgh alone — that is, no one but my 
servant. The snow became impassable, and in Edinburgh I remain 
immovably fixed for ten days — that is, till Wednesday — never once 
getting out of doors, save to dinner, when I went and returned in a 
sedan chair. I commenced my quarantine in Mackenzie's Hotel,^ 
where I was deadly cold, and it was tolerably noisy. The second day 
Mr. Cadell made a point of my coming to his excellent house, where 
I had no less excellent an apartment and the most kind treatment — 
that is, not making a show of me, for which I was in but bad tune.^ 
The physical folks, Abercrombie and Ross, bled me with cupping- 
glasses, purged me confoundedly, and restricted me of all creature 
comforts. But they did me good, as I am sure they meant to do 
sincerely ; and I got rid of a giddy feeling, which I have been plagued 
with, and have certainly returned much better. I did not neglect 
my testamentary affairs. I executed my last will, leaving Walter 

1 1 Henry VI. , Act ir. Sc. 3. one of the chapters already finished, he looked 
3 No. 1 Castle Street. out for a moment at the gloomy weather, and 
' "His host perceived that he was unfit for penned these lines— 
any company but the quietest, and had some- 
times one old friend, Mr. Thomson, Mr. Clerk, « The storm increMes— 'tis no sunny shower, 
or Mr. Skene to dinner, but no more. He Foster'd in the moist breast of March or April, 

seemed glad to see them, but they all observed Or such as parched summer cools his lips with. 

him with pain. He never took the lead in Heaven s wmd^^^are A-g -de^«.e mmost deeps 

conversation, and often remained altogether si- on comes the flood in all its foaming horrors, 

lent. In the mornings he wrote usually for Andwhere's the dyke shall stop it?'" 

several hours at Count Robert; and Mr. Cadell -?'A« Deluge-a Poem. 

remembers in particular, that on Ballantyne's 

reminding him that a motto was wanted for —Lifej vol. x. p. 37. 



520 JOURNAL [Jan. 1831. 

burdened, by his own choice, with £1000 to Sophia, and another re- 
ceived at her marriage, and £2000 to Anne, and the same to Charles. 
He is to advance them money if they want it ; if not, to pay them in- 
terest, which is his own choice, otherwise I would have sold the books 
and rattletraps. I have made provisions for clearing my estate by my 
publications, should it be possible ; and should that prove possible, 
from the time of such clearance being effected, to be a fund available 
to all my children who shall be alive or leave representatives. My be- 
quests must, many of them, seem hypothetical ; but the thing, being 
uncertain, must be so stated. 

Besides, during the unexpected stay in town, I employed Mr. 
Fortune, an ingenious artist,^ to make a machine to assist my lame 
leg, — an odd enough purchase to be made at this time of day, yet 
who would not purchase ease? I dined with the Lord Chief Com- 
missioner, with the Skenes twice, with Lord Medwyn, and was as 
happy as anxiety about my daughter would permit me. 

The appearance of the streets was most desolate : the hackney- 
coaches, with four horses, strolling about like ghosts, the foot-passen- 
gers few but the lowest of the people. 

I wrote a good deal of Count Robert, yet I cannot tell why my 
pen stammers egregiously, and I write horridly incorrect. I long to 
have friend Laidlaw's assistance. 

1 A skilful mechanist, who, by a clever piece of handiwork, gave Sir Walter great relief, but 
only for a brief period. —Life^ vol. x. p. 38. 



FEBRUARY 

February 9, [Ahhotsford]. — A heavy and most effective thaw com- 
ing on I got home about five at night, and found the haugh covered 
with water, dogs, pigs, cows, to say nothing of human beings, all v/ho 
slept at the offices in danger of being drowned. They came up to 
the mansion-house about midnight, with such various clamour, that 
Anne thought the house was attacked by Captain Swing and all the 
Radicals. 

February 10. — I set to work with Mr. Laidlaw, and had after that 
a capital ride ; my pony, little used, was somewhat frisky, but I rode 
on to Huntly Burn. Began my diet on my new regime, and like it 
well, especially porridge to supper. It is wonderful how old tastes 
rise. 

February 11. — Wrought again to-day, and John Swanston walked 
with me. Wrote many letters, and sent copy to Ballantyne. Rode 
as usual. It is well enough to ride every day, but confoundedly tire- 
some to write it down. 

February 13. — I did not ask down Mr. Laidlaw, thinking it fair 
to spare his Sunday. I had a day of putting to rights, a disagree- 
able work which must be done. I took the occasion to tell Mr. Ca- 
dell that Malachi will break forth again ; but I will not make a point 
of it with him. I do not fear there will be as many to strike up as 
to strike down, and I have a strong notion we may gain the day. I 
have a letter from the Duchess of Wellington, asking a copy of Mel- 
ville's Memoirs. She shall have it if it were my last. 

February 14. — I had hardly begun my letter to Mr. Cadell than I 
began also to "pull in resolution."^ I considered that I had no 
means of retreat ; and that in all my sober moments, meaning my 
unpassionate ones, for the doctors have taken from me the means of 
producing Dutch courage, I have looked on political writing as a 
false step, and especially now when I have a good deal at stake. So, 
upon the whole, I cancelled the letter announcing the publication. 
If this was actually meanness it is a foible nobody knows of. Anne 
set off for Edinburgh after breakfast. Poor girl, she is very nervous. 
I wrote with Mr. L. till one — then had a walk till three — then wrote 
this diary till four. Must try to get something for Mr. Laidlaw, for 
I am afraid I am twaddling. I do not think my head is weakened, 

» Macbeth, Act v. Sc. 5. 



522 JOURNAL [Feb. 

but a strange vacillation makes me suspect. Is it not thus that men 
begin to fail, becoming, as it were, infirm of purpose, 

"... that way madness lies ; let me shun that : 
No more of that ..." * 

Yet, why be a child about it ? what must be, will be. 

February 15. — I wrote and corrected through the long day till 
one o'clock ; then rode out as far as Dr. Scott's, and called on him. 
Got a fresh dose of proofs at Mathieson's, and returned home. At 
nine o'clock at night had a card from Miss Bell [Maclachlan], wish- 
ing to speak to me about some Highland music. Wrote for answer 
I knew nothing of the matter, but would be happy to see Mrs. and 
Miss Bell to breakfast. I had a letter of introduction by Robert 
Chambers, which I declined, being then unwell. But as Trotter of 
Braid said, "The ladies maun come." 

February 16. — Mrs. and Miss Bell Maclachlan of the West High- 
lands, mother and daughter, made their way to me to breakfast. I 
did not wish to see them, being strangers ; but she is very pretty — 
that is, the daughter — and enthusiastic, and that is always flattering 
to an old gentleman. She wishes to have words to Celtic melodies, 
and I have promised her some, to the air of Crochallan, and incline 
to do her good, perhaps, to the extent of getting her words from 
Lord Francis Leveson Gower, Lockhart, and one or two others. We 
parted, she pleased with my willing patronage, and I with an uncom- 
mon handsome countenance she showed me. 

This detained Mr. Laidlaw re infecta, and before I had written a 
page the pony came to the door ; but wrote something after dinner. 

February 17 and 18. — We had the usual course of food, study, 
and exercise in the forenoon. Was extremely sleepy in the after- 
noon, which made, I fear, but bad work. We progress, however. In 
riding met Sir Adam Ferguson, and asked him and his brother the 
Colonel to dinner to-morrow. Wrote in the meantime as usual. 

February 19. — Plagued by the stay for leg starting a screw bolt, 
which is very inconvenient. Sent off, this morning, proofs as far as 
end of first volume, and 20 manuscript pages, equal to about a quar- 
ter of the second. Is it good or not ? I cannot say. I think it better 
as it goes on ; and so far so good. I am certain I have written worse 
abomination, as John Ballantyne, poor fellow, used to say. 

February 20. — Wrote five pages this morning ; then rode out to 
the hill and looked at some newly planted, rather transplanted, trees. 
Mr. Laidlaw gone for the day. I trust I shall have proofs to correct. 
In the meantime I may suck my paws and prepare some copy, or 
rather assemble the raw material. 

February 21. — I made up parcels by mail-coach and Blucher to 



1 Lear, Act in. Sc. 4. 



1831.] JOURNAL 523 

go to-morrow — second volume Redgauntlet. At one fetched a walk 
through wet and dry, looking at the ravages of the late flood. After 
I came in, till two hours after tea-time, busied with the Sheriff Court 
processes, which I have nearly finished. After this I will lounge over 
my annotating. The Tales of the Crusades come next. 

February 22. — Wrought with Mr. L. from ten to three, then took 
the pony carriage, with the purpose of going to Chiefswood, but a 
heavy squall came on with snow, so we put about-ship and returned, 
Read Lyttelton's History of England to get some notes for Crusaders, 
vol. i. After dinner Mr. Laidlaw from six to eight. Sent off six 
pages. 

February 23, 24, 25. — These three days I can hardly be said to 
have varied from my ordinary. 

Rose at seven, dressed before eight, wrote letters, or did any little 
business till a quarter past nine. Then breakfast. Mr. Laidlaw comes 
from ten till one. Then take the pony, and ride quantum mutatus 
two or three miles, John Swanston walking by my bridle-rein lest I 
fall off. Come home about three or four. Then to dinner on a sin- 
gle plain dish and half a tumbler, or by'r lady three-fourths of a tum- 
bler, of whisky and water. Then sit till six o'clock, when enter Mr. 
Laidlaw again, and work commonly till eight. After this, work usual- 
ly alone till half-past nine, then sup on porridge and milk, and so to 
bed. The work is half done. If any [one] asks what time I take to 
think on the composition, I might say, in one point of view, it was 
seldom five minutes out of my head the whole day. In another light, 
it was never the serious subject of consideration at all, for it never 
occupied my thoughts entirely for five minutes together, except when 
I was dictating to Mr. Laidlaw. 

February 26. — Went through the same routine, only, being Satur- 
day, Mr. Laidlaw does not come in the evening. I think there is 
truth in the well-known phrase, Aurora musis arnica. I always have 
a visit of invention between six and seven — that is, if anything has 
been plaguing me, in the way of explanation, I find it in my head 
when I wake. I have need of it to-night. 

February 27. — Being Saturday, no Mr. Laidlaw came yesterday 
evening, nor to-day, being Sunday. Truth is, I begin to fear I was 
working too hard, and gave myself to putting things in order, and 
working at the Magnum, and reading stupid German novels in 
hopes a thought will strike me when I am half occupied with 
other things. In fact, I am like the servant in the Clandestine Mar- 
riage,^ who assures his mistress he always watches best with his 
eyes shut. 

February 28. — Past ten, and Mr. Laidlaw, the model of a clerk in 
other respects, is not come yet. He has never known the value of 
time, so is not quite accurate in punctuality ; but that, I hope, will 

1 Colman the elder. 



524 JOURNAL [Feb. 1831. 

come if I can drill him to it without hurting him. I think I hear 
him coming. I am like the poor wizard who is first puzzled how to 
raise the devil and then how to employ him. But vogue la galere. 
Worked till one, then walked with great difficulty and pain till half- 
past two. I think I can hardly stir without my pony, which is a sad 
pity. Mr. Laidlaw dines here. 



MARCH 

March 1, 2, 3. — All these three days I wrote forenoon and fagged 
afternoon. Kept up the ball indifferent well, but began to tire on 
the third, and suspected that I was flat — a dreary suspicion, not easi- 
ly chased away when once it takes root. 

March 4. — Laid aside the novel, and began with vigour a review 
of Robson's Essay on Heraldry ; ^ but I missed some quotations 
which I could not get on without. I gave up, and took such a rash 
ride nowadays. Returned home, and found Colonel Russell there on 
a visit. Then we had dinner, and afterwards the making up this 
miserable Journal. 

March 5. — I have a letter from our member, Whytbank, adjuring 
me to assist the gentlemen of the county with an address against the 
Reform Bill, which menaces them with being blended with Peebles- 
shire, and losing of consequence one half of their franchise. Mr. 
Pringle conjures me not to be very nice in choosing my epithets. 
Mr. Pringle, Torwoodlee, comes over and speaks to the same pur- 
pose, adding, it will be the greatest service I can do the county, etc. 
This, in a manner, drives me out of a resolution to keep myself clear 
of politics, and " let them fight dog, fight bear." But I am too easy 
to be persuaded to bear a hand. The young Duke of Buccleuch 
comes to visit me also ; so I promised to shake my duds and give 
them a cast of my calling, fall back, fall edge. 

March 7-10. — In these four days I drew up, with much anxiety, 
an address reprobatory of the Bill, both with respect to Selkirkshire, 
and in its general purport. I was not mealy-mouthed, and those w^ho 
heard the beginning could hardly avoid listening to the end. It was 
certainly in my best style, and would have made a deal of noise. 
From the uncompromising style it would have attracted attention. 
Mr. Laidlaw, though he is on t'other side on the subject, thinks it the 
best thing I ever wrote ; and I myself am happy to find that it can- 
not be said to smell of the apoplexy. The pointed passages were, 
on the contrary, clever and well put. But it was too declamatory, 
too much like a pamphlet, and went far too generally into opposition 
to please the country gentlemen, who are timidly inclined to dwell 
on their own grievances rather than the public wrongs. 

March 11. — This day we had our meeting at Selkirk. I found 



J The British Herald, by Thomas Robson, 3 vols. 4to, 1830. Mr. Lockhart says this review 
nerer was published. 



526 



JOURNAL 



[M. 



Bortliwickbrae (late member) had sent the form of an address, which 
was finished by Mr. Andrew Lang.^ It was the reverse of mine in 
every respect. It was short, and to the point. It only contained a 
remonstrance against the incorporation with [Peeblesjshire, and left 
it to be inferred that they approved the Bill in other respects." As 
I saw that it met the ideas of the meeting (six in number) better by 
far than such an address as mine, I instantly put it in my pocket. 
But I endeavoured to add to their complaint of a private wrong a 
general clause, stating their sense of the hazard of passing a Bill full 
of such violent innovations at once on the public. But though Har- 
den, Alva,' and Torwoodlee voted for this measure, it was refused by 
the rest of the meeting, to my disappointment ; since in its present 
state it will not be attended to, and is in fact too milk-and-water to 
attract notice. I am, however, personally out of the scrape ; I was a 
fool to stir such a mess of skimmed milk with so honourable an ac- 
tion.^ If some of the gentlemen of the press get hold of this story, 
what would they make of it, and how little would I care ! One thing 
is clear : it gives me a right to decline future interference, and let 
the world wag, Sessa.* 

March 12. — Wrote the history of my four days' labour in vain to 
Sandy Pringle, Whytbank, and so transeat with cceteris erroribus. I 
only gave way to one jest. A rat-catcher was desirous to come and 
complete his labours in my house, and I, who thought he only talked 
and laughed with the servants, recommended him to go to the head 
courts and meetings of freeholders, where he would find rats in 
plenty. 

March 13. — I have finally arranged a thorny transaction. Mr. 
Cadell has an interest in some of the Novels, amounting to one-half ; 
but the following are entirely my own, viz. : — 



St. Ronan's Well 3 vols. 

Tales of Crusaders 4 " 

First Chronicles 2 " 

Anne of Geierstein 3 " 



Redgauutlet 3 vols. 

Woodstock 3 " 

Second Chronicles 3 " 

Count Robert 3 " 



In all, twenty-four volumes, which will begin printing after Quentin 
Durivard^ and concludes the year 1831. For half the property he 
proposes to pay 6000 guineas on 2d February 1831 [1832 ?]. I think 
that with this sum, and others coming in, I may reduce the debt to 
£45,000. 

But I do not see clearly enough through this affair to accept this 
offer. First, I cannot see that there is wisdom in engaging Mr. 



1 Mr. Andrew Lang, Sheriff and Commissary 
Clerk, and Clerk of Peace, for Selkirkshire, 
grandfather of Mr. Andrew Lang, the accom- 
plished poet and man of letters of the present 
time. The tact and ability of the grandfather 
are noticed by Sir Walter in his letter to Lord 



Montagu of Oct. 3, 1819, describing Prince Leo- 
pold at Selkirk.— it/?, vol. vi. p. 131. 

2 This proposal, resisted successfully in 1832, 
has since been put in force so far as Parliament 
is concerned. 

3 1 Henry IV., Act ii. Sc. 3. 

♦ Taming of the Shrew, Introd. 



1831.] JOURNAL 627 

Cadell in deep speculations, unless they served him very much. I am, 
in this respect, a burnt child : I have not forgotten the fire, or rather 
the furnace. Second^ I think the property worth more, if publicly 
sold. Third, I cannot see any reasons which should render it advan- 
tageous for me to sell one half of this property, it being admittedly at 
the same [time] highly judicious to keep the other half. This does 
not fadge. Fourth, As to the immediate command of the money, I 
am not pressed for it, not having any advantage by paying it a year 
or two sooner or later. The actual proceeds of the sales will come 
in about 1834, and I daresay will not be far behind in amount the 
sum of £6000. 

In short, I will not sell on a rainy day, as our proverb says. I 
have communicated my resolution to Cadell, to whom, no doubt, it 
will be a disappointment, for which I am sorry, but cannot help it. 

March 14. — Had a very sensible and good-humoured answer from 
Mr. Cadell, readily submitting to my decision. He mentions, what I 
am conscious of, the great ease of accomplishing, if the whole is di- 
vided into two halves. But this is not an advantage to me, but to 
them who keep the books, and therefore I cannot be moved by it. It 
is the great advantage of uniformity, of which Malachi Malagrowther 
tells so much. I do not fear that Mr. Cadell will neglect the concern 
because he has not the large share in it which he had m the other. 
He is, I think, too honest a man. He has always shown himself 
every w^ay willing and ready to help me, and verily he hath his re- 
ward ; and I can afford him on that property a handsome percentage 
for the management. But if his fate was to lose considerably by this 
transaction, I must necessarily be a sufferer ; if he be a great gainer, 
it is at my expense, so it is like the children's game of " Odds I win, 
evens you lose " — so will say no more about it. I think I will keep 
my ground nearly, so these cursed politics do not ruin the country. I 
am unable to sit at good men's boards, and Anne has gone to Mer- 
toun to-day without me. I cannot walk or ride but for a mile or two. 
Naboclish ! never mind. I am satisfied that I am heart-whole as a 
biscuit, and I may live to see the end of those affairs yet. I am 
driving on the Count of Paris right merrily. I have plenty of leisure, 
and vive la plume ! I have arranged matters as I think for the best, 
so will think no more about it. 

March 1 6. — The affair with Mr. Cadell being settled, I have only 
to arrange a set of regular employment for my time, without over- 
fatiguing myself. What I at present practise seems active enough 
for my capacity, and even if I should reach the threescore and ten, 
from which I am thrice three years distant, or nearer ten, the time 
may pass honourably, usefully, and profitably, both to myself and 
other people. My ordinary runs thus : — Rise at a quarter before 
seven ; at a quarter after nine breakfast, with eggs, or in the singular 
number, at least ; before breakfast private letters, etc. ; after break- 
fast Mr. Laidlaw comes at ten, and we write together till one. I am 



528 JOURNAL [March 

greatly helped by this excellent man, who takes pains to write a good 
hand, and supplies the want of my own fingers as far as another per- 
son can. "We work seriously at the task of the day till one o'clock, 
when I sometimes walk — not often, however, having failed in 
strength, and suffering great pain even from a very short walk. 0ft- 
ener I take the pony for an hour or two and ride about the doors ; 
the exercise is humbling enough, for I require to be lifted on horse- 
back by two servants, and one goes with me to take care I do not 
fall off and break my bones, a catastrophe very like to happen. My 
proud promenade a pied or a cheval, as it happens, concludes by 
three o'clock. An hour intervenes for making up my Journal and 
such light work. At four comes dinner, — a plate of broth or soup, 
much condemned by the doctors, a bit of plain meat, no liquors 
stronger than small beer, and so I sit quiet to six o'clock, when Mi*. 
Laidlaw returns, and remains with me till nine or three quarters past, 
as it happens. Then I have a bowl of porridge and milk, which I 
eat with the appetite of a child. I forgot to say that after dinner I 
am allowed half a glass of whisky or gin made into weak grog. I 
never wish for any more, nor do I in my secret soul long for cigars, 
though once so fond of them. About six hours per day is good 
working, if I can keep at it. 

March 17. — Little of this day, but that it was so uncommonly 
windy that I was almost blown off my pony, and was glad to grasp the 
mane to prevent its actually happening. Rode round by Brigends. 
I began the third volume of Count Robert of Paris, which has been 
on the anvil during all these vexatious circumstances of politics and 
health. But " the blue heaven bends over all." It may be ended in 
a fortnight if I keep my scheme. But I will take time enough. 
This would be on Thursday. I would like it much. 

March 18. — We get well on. Count Robert is finished so far as 
the second goes, and some twenty [pages] of the third. Blackwood's 
Magazine, after long bedaubing me with compliment, has began to 
bedaub Lockhart for my sake, or perhaps me for Lockhart's sake, 
with abuse. Lockhart's chief offence seems to have been explaining 
the humbug of showing up Hogg as a fool and blackguard in what 
he calls the JVoctes.^ For me I care wonderfully little either for his 
.flattery or his abuse.* 

1 As tliis is the last reference to the Ettrick chance for comfort if he will use common sense 

Shepherd in the Journal, it may be noted that with his very considerable genius." 
Sir Walter, as late as March 23d, 1832, was still 

desirous to promote Hogg's welfare. lu writ- 3 This expression of irritation can easily be 

ing from Naples he says, in reference to the understood after reading the passages referred 

Shepherd's social success in London, '-I am to in the twenty-ninth volume o( Blackwood's 

glad Hogg has succeeded so well. I hope he Magazine, pp. 30-35, and 535-544. Readers of 

will make hay while the sun shines; but he this Journal have seen what uphill work these 

must be aware that the Lion of this season al- "Letters on Demonology " were to the author, 

ways becomes the Boar of the next. ... I will but the unsparing criticism of CAm^opfteriVor</» 

subscribe the proper sum, i.e. what you think must have appeared to the author as a very 

right, for Hogg, by all means ; and I pray God, unfriendly act, more especially, he thought, if 

keep farms and other absurd temptations likely the critic really knew the conditions under 

to beset him out of his way. He has another which the book had been written. 



1831.] JOURNAL 529 

March 19. — I made a hard working day — almost equal to twenty 
pages, but there was some reason for it, for Ballantyne writes me that 
the copy sent will not exceed 265 pages when the end of volume ii. 
is reached ; so 45 more pages must be furnished to run it out to page 
329. This is an awful cast back ; so the gap is to be made up. 

March 20. — I thought I was done with politics, but it is easy get- 
ting into the mess, and difficult and sometimes disgraceful to get out. 
I have a letter from Sheriff Oliver, desiring me to go [to Jedburgh] 
on Monday (to-morrow) and show countenance by adhering to a set 
of propositions, being a resolution. Though not well drawn, they are 
uncompromising enough ; so I will not part company. Had a letter, 
too, from Henry Scott. He still expects to refuse the Bill. I wrote 
him that would but postpone the evil day, unless they could bring 
forward a strong Administration, and, what is most essential, a sys- 
tem of finance ; otherwise it won't do. Henry has also applied to 
me for the rejected address. But this I shall decline. 

March 22. — Went to-day at nine o'clock to the meeting. A great 
number present, with a tribune full of Reformers, who showed their 
sense of propriety by hissing, hooting, and making all sorts of noises ; 
and these unwashed artificers are from henceforth to select our legis- 
lators. There was some speaking, but not good. I said something, 
for I could not sit quiet.' 

We did not get home till about nine, having fasted the whole 
time. James, the blockhead, lost my poor Spice, a favourite terrier. 
The fool shut her in a stable, and somebody, [he] says, opened the 
door and let her out. I suspect she is lost for aye, for she was car- 
ried to Jedburgh in a post-chaise. 

March 23. — The measure carried by a single vote.^ In other cir- 
cumstances one would hope for the interference of the House of 
Lords, but it is all hab-nab at a venture. The worst is that there is 
a popular party who want personal power, and are highly unfitted to 
enjoy it. It has fallen easily, the old Constitution; no bullying 
Mirabeau to assail, no eloquent Maury to defend. It has been 
thrown away like a child's broken toy. Well trained, the good 
sense of the people is much trusted to ; we will see what it will do 
for us.^ 

The curse of Cromwell on those whose conceit brought us to this 
pass. Sed transeat. It is vain to mourn what cannot be mended. 

March 24. — Frank Grant and his lady came here. Frank will, I 
believe, and if he attends to his profession, be one of the celebrated 

1 Mr, Lockhart says:— "He proposed one of writes him from London on February 14 :_ 

the Tory resolutions in a speech of some length, " What a singular feeling it was to me to find 

but delivered in a tone so low, and with such Brougham Lord Chancellor, and Jeffrey and 

hesitation in utterance, that only a few de- Cockburn in their present stations! I am 

tached passages were intelligible to the bulk afraid that the spirit of reform goes at pres- 

of the audience. "—See Life, vol. x. pp. 46-8. ent beyond the limits to which even the Gov- 

» The passing of the great Reform Bill in the ^'A^^^^^nl/o;::^*')-!!'"' ^^k ^^^! i^^^ t'^'*'''^ 

TT^ncp nf rnmiTintK? nn thp ^Qd Marrh ^^ ^ood sense and feeling which I think yet 

House of Commons on the 22d March. pervades the country, I should tremble for the 

3 His friend Richardson, who was a Whig, future." 

34 



530 JOURNAL [March 

men of the age. He is well known to me as the companion of my 
sons and the partner of my daughters. In youth, that is in extreme 
youth, he was passionately fond of fox-hunting and other sports, but 
not of any species of gambling. He had also a strong passion for 
painting, and made a little collection. As he had sense enough to 
feel that a younger brother's fortune would not last long under the 
expenses of a good stud and a rare collection of chef-d'oeuvres^ he used 
to avow his intention to spend his patrimony, about £10,000, and 
then again to make his fortune by the law. The first he soon accom- 
plished. But the law is not a profession so easily acquired, nor did 
Frank's talents lie in that direction. His passion for painting turned 
out better. Nature had given him the rare power of judging sound- 
ly of painting, and in a remarkable degree the power of imitating it. 
Connoisseurs approved of his sketches, both in pencil and oils, but 
not without the sort of criticisms made on these occasions — that they 
were admirable for an amateur ; but it could not be expected that he 
should submit to the technical drudgery absolutely necessary for a 
profession, and all that species of criticism which gives way before 
natural genius and energy of character. 

Meantime Frank Grant, who was remarkably handsome, and very 
much the man of fashion, married a young lady with many possibil- 
ities, as Sir Hugh Evans says.^ She was eldest sister of Farquharson 
of Invercauld, chief of that clan ; and the young man himself having 
been almost paralysed by the malaria in Italy, Frank's little boy by 
this match becomes heir to the estate and chieftainship. In the mean- 
time fate had another chance for him in the matrimonial line. At 
Melton-Mowbray, during the hunting season, he had become acquaint- 
ed (even before his first marriage) with a niece of the Duke of Rut- 
land, a beautiful and fashionable young woman, with whom he was 
now thrown into company once more. It was a natural consequence 
that they should marry. The lady had not much wealth, but excel- 
lent connections in society, to whom Grant's good looks and good 
breeding made him very acceptable. 

March 25. — In the meantime Frank saw the necessity of doing 
something to keep himself independent, having, I think, too much 
spirit to become a Stulko,^ drinking out the last glass of the bottle, 
riding the horses which the laird wishes to sell, and drawing sketches 
to amuse the lady and the children, — besides a prospect on Invercauld 
elevating him, when realised, to the rank of the laird's father. 

March 26. — Grant was above all this, and honourably and man- 
fully resolved to cultivate his taste for painting, and become a pro- 
fessional artist. I am no judge of painting, but I am conscious that 
Francis Grant possesses, wdth much taste, a sense of beauty derived 
from the best source, that of really good society, while in many mod- 
ern artists, the total want of that species of feeling is so great as to 

J Merry Wives, Act i. Sc. 1. formerly in common use among the Irish, sig- 

? Stulko or Stulk ( IStocaire, in Irish), a word nifying an idle, lazy, good-for-nothing fellow. 



1831.] 



JOURNAL 531 



be revolting. His former acquaintances render his immediate en- 
trance into business completely secure, and it will rest with himself 
to carry on his success. He has, I think, that degree of energy and 
force of character which will make him keep and enlarge any reputa- 
tion which he may acquire. He has confidence too in his own pow- 
ers, always a requisite for a young painter whose aristocratic preten- 
sions must be envied by [his less fortunate brethren]. 

March 27. — Frank Grant is still with me, and is well pleased — I 
think very deservedly so — with a cabinet picture of myself, armour, 
and so forth, together with my two noble staghounds of the greyhound 
race. I wish Cadell had got it ; it is far better than Watson's — though 
his is well too. The dogs sat charmingly, but the picture took up 
some time.^ 

March 28. — We went out a little ride. The weather most tempt- 
ing, the day beautiful. We rode and walked a little. 

March 29. — We had an hour's sitting of the dogs, and a good deal 
of success. I cannot compose my mind on this public measure. It 
will not please those whom it is the object to please. 

March 30. — Robert Dundas'* and his wife — Miss Durham that was 
— came to spend a day or two. I was heartily glad to see him, being 
my earliest and best friend's son. John Swinton came by Blucher, 
on the part of an anti-Reform meeting in Edinburgh; exhorting me 
to take up the pen, but I declined and pleaded health, which, God 

1 Mary Campbell, Lady Ruthven, for whom charity, the practical application of which, in 

the picture was painted, was uot only the friend her every-day life, was only bounded by her 

of Scott, but she held relations more or less means. 

close with nearly every one famous in Art and It was said ofher by one who knew her well- 
Literature during the greater part of the nine- 
teenth century. No mean artist herself, and "she lived to a great age, diipcnsing kindness and be- 
though, perhaps, not a clever letter-writer, she neyolence to the last and cheered in th^ sore infirmities of 
\.^A „^^ >,%.- r, ^««+c o^,v,« n.i tx.^ her later years by the love of friends ot all ranks, ard all 

had among her correspondents some oi the parties of all ages. 

most brilliant men of her day. She survived "The Living Lamp of Lothian, which from Winton.has 

all her early friends, but had the gift of being so long shed its beneficent lustre, has been extinguished, 

attractive to the young, and for three genera- but not so will be lost the memory of the gifted lady, for 

tinns xvTo thp Hplitrht of tlipir philrlrpn nnrl by not a few will still be cherished the recollection ol her 
tions was tne dellgnt OI ineir CQUaren ana noble nature, and of her Chriftian life." 

grandchildren. Those who were privileged to 

share in the refined hospitality of Winton, nev- Lady Ruthven prized the picture referred to. 

er forgot either the picturesque old house (the She would not, as Sir Francis Grant relates,* 

supposed Ravenswood Castle of the Bride of permit him to touch the canvas after it left the 

Lammermoor), or its venerable mistress as she Abbotsford studio; and it remained a cherished 

sat of an evening in her unique drawing-room, possession which she took pride in showing to 

the walls of which were adorned with pictures appreciative guests, pointing out the details 

of Grecian temple and landscape, her own of face and form which she still saw with that 

handiwork in days long gone by when she was inner eye, which time had not darkened, 

styled by her friends Queen of Athens. Her It is now in the National Portrait Gallery of 

conversation, after she was ninety, was fresh Scotland — bequeathed to the nation with other 

and vigorous; and, despite blindness and im- pictures, as well as the magnificent collection 

perfect hearing, she kept herself well acquaint- of Greek archaeological objects gathered by her- 

ed with the affairs of the day. The last great self and Lord Ruthven in their early married 

speech in Parliament, or the newest hon mot, life. She was bom in 1789, and died in 1885. 

were equally acceptable and equally relished. 2 Robert Dundas of Arniston, Esq., the wor- 

Her sense of humour and fun made her, at thy representative of an illustrious lineage, 

times, forget her own sufferings, and her splen- died at his paternal seat in June, 1838.— j. g. l. 

did memory enabled her to while away many See Arniston Memoirs — Three Centuries of a 

a sleepless hour by repeating long passages Scottish House, 1571-1838. Edin. 8vo, 1887. 
from the Bible or Milton. The former she had 

so much in her heart that it was scarcely pos- . gee long and interesting letter of June 5, 1878, from 

Sible to believe she was not reading from the Sir Francis to Sir W. S. Maxwell. — Lalng's Catalogue, 

Book. Above all was her truly divine gift of pp. 7S-8i. 



632 JOURNAL [March, 1831. 

knows, I have a right to urge. I might have urged also the chance 
of my breaking down, but there would be a cry of this kind which 
might very well prove real. 

March 31. — Swinton returned in the forenoon yesterday after 
lunch. He took my denial very quietly, and said it would be wrong 
to press me. I have not shunned anything that came fairly on me, 
but I do not see the sense of standing forth a champion. It is said 
that the Duke of Buccleuch has been ofiered the title of Monmouth 
if he would cease to oppose. He said there were two objections — 
they would not give it him if he seriously thought of it, and he 
would not take it if they did. The Dundases went off to-day. I 
was glad I had seen them, although visitors rather interrupt work. 



APRIL 

April 2. — Mr. Henry Liddell, eldest son of Lord Ravens worth, ar- 
rived here. I like him and his brother Tom very much. They are 
what may be termed fine men. Young Mackenzie of Cromarty came 
with him, who is a fine lad and sings very beautifully. I knew his 
father and mother, and was very glad to see him. They had been at 
Mertoun fishing salmon, with little sport. 

April 3. — A letter from the Lord Chief-Commissioner reporting 
Lord Palmerston and Sir Herbert Taylor's letters in Charles's favour. 
Wrote a grateful answer, and resolved, that as I have made my 
opinion public at every place where I could be called on or expected 
to appear, I will not throw myself forward when I have nothing to 
say. May the Lord have mercy upon us and incline our hearts to 
keep this vow ! 

April 4. — Mr. Liddell and Hay Mackenzie left us this morning. 
Liddell showed me yesterday a very good poem, worthy of Pope or 
Churchill, in old-fashioned hexameters, called the \illegible\. He has 
promised me a copy, for it is still being printed. There are some 
characters very well drawn. The force of it belies the character of a 
Dandie, too hastily ascribed to the author. He is accomplished as 
an artist and musician, and certainly has a fine taste for poetry, 
though he may never cultivate it.* He promises to bring his lady — 
who is very clever, but pretty high, they say, in the temper — to spend 
a day or two with us after leaving Edinburgh. 

April 5. — This fifth day of April is the March fair at Selkirk. 
Almost every one of the family goes there, Mr. Laidlaw among others. 
I have a hideous paralytic custom of stuttering with my pen, and can- 
not write without strange blunders ; yet I cannot find any failure in 
my intellect. Being unable to write to purpose with my own hand, 
this forenoon was a sort of holiday to me. The third volume of 
Count Robert is fairly begun, but I fear I shall want stuff to fill it, for 
I would not willingly bombast it with things inappropriate. If I could 
fix my mind to the task to-day, my temper, notwithstanding my oath, 
sets strong towards politics, where I would be sure of making a 
figure, and feel I could carry with me a great part of the middle-class, 
who wait for a shot between wind and water — half comic, half se- 
rious, which is a better argument than most which are going. The 
regard of my health is what chiefly keeps me in check. The provok- 

» Henry Liddell, second Baron Ravensworth, author of a translation of the Odes of Horace, a 
volume of Latin Poems, etc. 



534 JOURNAL [April 

ing odium I should mind much less; for there will always be as 
many for as against me, but it would be a foolish thing to take flight 
to the next world in a political gale of wind. If Cadell gave me the 
least encouragement I would give way to the temptation. Meantime 
1 am tugging at the chain for very eagerness. I have done enough 
to incense people against me, without, perhaps, doing so much as I 
could, would, or should have done. 

April 6. — I have written to Alva and Lord Elgin, explaining why 
I cannot, as they encourage me to do, take upon me the cause of the 
public, and bell-the-cat with the reformers. I think I have done 
enough for an individual. 

I have more than half dictated the third volume to Mr. Laidlaw ; 
but I feel the subject wants action, and that^ little repose will be 
very necessary. Resolve to-morrow shall be a resting-day. I have 
not had one this long time. I had a letter from Croker, advising a 
literary adventure — the personal history of Charles Edward.^ I think 
it will do. Rode to Melrose and brought home the letters from the 
post-oflSce. 

April 8. — I took leave of poor Major John Scott,' who, being af- 
flicted Avith a distressing asthma, has resolved upon selling his house 
in Ravenswood, which he had dressed up with much neatness, and 
going abroad to Jamaica. Without having been intimate friends, we 
were always affectionate relations, and now we part, probably never 
to meet in this world. He has a good deal of the character said to 
belong to the family. Our parting with mutual feeling may be easily 
supposed. 

April 9. — This being Saturday, I expect the bibliopolist and ty- 
pographer about two o'clock, I suppose, when I shall have much to 
journalise. Failures among the trade are alarming, yet not if we act 
with prudence. iVo?w verrons. 

Mr. Cadell and J. Ballantyne, with the son of the latter. Their 
courage is much stouter than I apprehended. Cadell says he has 
lost £1000 by bad debts, which is less than he expected, by bad times 
coming on at this time. We have been obliged to publish the less 
popular part of the Waverley Novels. At present I incline to draw 
a period after 48 volumes, and so close the publication. About nine 
or ten volumes will then conclude our Magnum Opus, so called, and 
Mr. Cadell thinks we shall then begin the Poetical Works, in twelve 
volumes, with illustrations by Turner, which he expects to rise as far 
as 12,000. The size is to be that of the Waverley Novels. 

April 10. — I had a letter from Mr. Cowan, Trustee for Constable's 
creditors, telling that the manuscripts of the Waverley Novels had 

1 In a letter from Sir Walter to his son-in- there was room for a personal narrative of the 

law, of April 11th, he says: — character, it would answer admirably." 

"When you can take an hour to think of 2 This gentleman, a brother to the Laird of 

this, 1 will be glad to hear from you. ... I am Raeburn, had made some fortune in the East 

in possession of five or six manuscripts, copies, Indies, and bestowed the name of Ravenswood 

or large extracts, taken under my own eyes. on a villa which he built near Melrose. He 

Croker thinks, and I am of his opinion, that if died in 1831.— J. g. l. 



1831.] JOURNAL 535 

been adjudged to him, and offering them to me, or rather asking my 
advice about the disposal of them. Answered that I considered my- 
self as swindled out of my property, and therefore will give no con- 
sent to any sale of the pillage.' Cadell says he is determined to get 
the Mss. from Cowan. I told him I would give him the rest of the 
Mss., which are in my own hand, for Mr. Cadell has been very friendly 
to me in not suffering me to want money in difficult times. We are 
not pushed by our creditors, so can take our own time ; and as our 
plans prosper, we can pay off debt. About two o'clock enter two 
gentlemen in an open carriage, both from Makerstoun, and both Cap- 
tains in the Navy. Captain Blair, a son of the member for Ayrshire, 
my old friend the Laird of Blair. Just as they retreat, Mr. Pontey is 
announced. I was glad to see this great forester. He is a little man, 
and gets along with an air of talent, something like Gifford, the fa- 
mous editor of the Quarterly. As in his case mental acuteness gave 
animation to that species of countenance which attends personal de- 
formity. The whole of his face was bizarre and odd, yet singularly 
impressive. We walked round, I with great pain, by the Hooded 
Corbies' seat, and this great Lord of the woodland gave the plantation 
great approbation. He seems rather systematic in pruning, yet he is 
in a great measure right. He is tolerably obstinate in his opinions. 
He dined, leaving me flattered with his applause, and pleased with 
having seen him. 

April 11. — This day I went, with Anne and Miss Jane Erskine,^ 
to see the laying of the stones of foundation of two bridges in my 
neighbourhood over Tweed and the Ettrick. There was a great many 
people assembled. The day was beautiful, the scene romantic, and 
the people in good spirits and good-humour. Mr. Paterson' of Ga- 
lashiels made a most excellent prayer ; Mr. Smith* gave a proper re- 
past to the workmen, and we subscribed sovereigns apiece to provide 
for any casualty. I laid the foundation-stone of the bridge over 
Tweed, and Mr. C. B. Scott' of Woll that of Ettrick. The general 
spirit of good-humour made the scene, though without parade, ex- 
tremely interesting. 

April 12. — We breakfasted with the Fergusons, after which Anne 

1 The Manuscripts were sold by auction in Glasgow. He died in 1871. Mr. Paterson was 

London on August 19th, 1831, and the prices a grandson ot Robert Paterson, "Old Mortali- 

realised fell far short of what might have been ty," and brother of the Rev. Walter Paterson, 

expected, e.g. (1) Monastery, £18; (2) Guy Man- minister of Kirkurd, author of the Legend of 

nering, £27, lOs. ; (3) Old Mortality, £33; (4) Zona— a poem written in imitation of ihe style 

Antiquary, £42; (5) Rob Roy, £50; (6) Pevcril of Scott, and in which he recognises his obli- 

ofthe Peak, £42; (7) Waverley, £18; (8) Abbot, gations to Sir Walter in the following terms:— 

£14; (9) Ivanhoe, £12; (10) Pirate, £12; (11) "From him I derived courage to persevere in 

Nigel, £16, 16s. ; (12) Kenilwortk, £17 ; (13) an undertaking on which I had often reflected 

Bride of Lammermoor, £14:, lis. — Total £317. — with terror and distrnsV— Legend, notes, p. 

See David Laing's Catalogue, pp. 99-108, for an 305. 

fl'?"°^„ ^li^„!„^iPf !!!2P„^"^ '^^"^ °^ ^^^ °'*S- * Mr. John Smith of Darnick, the builder ot 



'"t^S'/TskTnlTd7ughter of Lord Kin- ^b^f f-^' -<^ -<^^>t-t of these bridges., 
nedder's. She died in 1838.— j. g. l. 

3 The Rev. N. Paterson, author of Tfie Manse ^ This gentleman died in 

Garden; afterwards minister of St. Andrew's, 4th February, 1838.— j. g. l. 



536 JOURNAL [April 

and Miss Erskine walked up the Rhymer's Glen. I could as easily 
have made a pilgrimage to Rome with pease in my shoes unboiled. 
I drove home, and began to work about ten o'clock. At one o'clock 
1 rode, and sent off what I had finished. Mr. Laidlaw dined with 
me. In the afternoon we wrote five or six pages more. 1 am, I fear, 
sinking a little, from having too much space to fill, and a want of the 
usual inspiration which makes me, like the chariot wheels of Pharaoh 
in the sands of the Red Sea, drive heavily. It is the less matter if 
this prove, as I suspect, the last of this fruitful family. 

April 13. — Corrected a proof in the morning. At ten o'clock 
began where I had left off at my romance. Mr. Laidlaw agrees as to 
the portion of what we are presently busy with. Laidlaw begins to 
smite the rock for not giving forth the water in quantity sufficient. 
I remarked to him that this would not profit much. Doing, perhaps, 
twelve pages a day will easily finish us, and if it prove dull, why, dull 
it must be. I shall, perhaps, have half a dozen to make up this night. 
I have against me the disadvantage of being called the Just, and 
every one of course is willing to worry me. But they have been long 
at it, and even those works which have been worst received at their 
appearance now keep their ground fairly enough. So we '11 try our 
old luck another voyage. 

It is a close, thick rain, and I cannot ride, and I am too dead lame 
to walk in the house. So, feeing really exhausted, I will try to 
sleep a little. 

My nap was a very short one, and was agreeably replaced by Basil 
Hall's Fragments of Voyages. Everything about the inside of a ves- 
sel is interesting, and my friend has the great sense to know this is 
the case. I remember when my eldest brother took the humour of 
going to sea, James Watson^ used to be invited to George Square to 
tell him such tales of hardships as might disgust him with the serv- 
ice. Such were my poor mother's instructions. But Captain Wat- 
son could not render a sea life disgusting to the young midshipman 
or to his brother, who looked on and listened. The account of assist- 
ance given to the Spaniards at Cape Finisterre, and the absurd be- 
haviour of the Junta, are highly interesting — a more ineflflcient, yet a 
more resolved class of men than the Spaniards were never conceived. 

April 14. — Advised by Mr. Cadell that he has agreed with Mr. 
Turner, the first draughtsman of the period, to furnish to the poetical 
works two decorations to each of the proposed twelve volumes, to 
wit, a frontispiece and vignette to each, at the rate of £25 for each, 
which is cheap enough considering these are the finest specimens of 
art going. The difficulty is to make him come here to take drawings. 
I have written to the man of art, inviting him to my house, though, 

1 The late Captain Watson, R.N., was dis- came President of the Royal Scottish Academy 

tantly related to Sir Walter's mother. His son, in 1850, died in 1864, leaving funds to endow a 

Sir John Watson Gordon, rose to great emi- Chair of Fine Arts in the Edinburgh Univer- 

nence as a painter; and his portraits of Scott sity. 
and Hogg rank among his best pieces. He be- 



1831.] 



JOURNAL 



537 



if I remember, lie is not very agreeable, and offered to transport him 
to the places where he is to exercise his pencil. His method is to 
take various drawings of remarkable places and towns and stick them 
all together. He can therefore derive his subjects from good accu- 
rate drawings, so with Skene's assistance we can equip him. We can 
put him at home on all the subjects. Lord Meadowbank and his son, 
Skene and his son. Colonel Russell and his sister, dined with us.' 

April 15. — Lord Meadowbank, etc., went to Newark with me, and 
returned to dine with the foregoing. Charming day. 

April 16. — Lord Meadowbank went to the circuit and our party 
to their various homes. By the bye, John Pringle and his brother of 
Haining dined with us yesterday. Skene walks with me and under- 
takes readily to supply Turner with subjects. Weather enchanting. 
About 100 leaves will now complete Robert of Paris. Query, will it 
answer ? Not knowing, can't say. I think it will. 

Sunday 16th [11 th] April to Sunday 24:tk of the same month un- 
pleasantly occupied by ill [health], and its consequences, a distinct 
shock of paralysis affecting both my nerves and spine, though begin- 
ning only on Monday with a very bad cold. Dr. [Abercrombie] was 
brought out by the friendly care of Cadell, but young Clarkson had 



1 Mr.W. F. Skene, Historiographer Royal for 
Scotland, and son of Scott's dear friend, has 
been good enough to give me his recollections 
of these days : — 

" On referring to my Diary for the year 1831 
I find the following entry: 'This Spring, on 31st 
April, I went with my father to Abbotsford and 
left on Sir Walter Scott being taken ill.' The 
date here given for my visit does not corre- 
spond with that in Sir Walter's Diary, but, as 
there are only thirty days in April it has evi- 
dently been written by mistake for the 13th. 
I had just attained my twenty-first year, and 
as such a visit at that early age was a great 
event in my life, I retain a very distinct recol- 
lection of the main features of it. I recollect 
that Lord Meadowbank and his eldest son 
Alan came at the same time, and the dinner 
party, at which Mr. Pringle of the Haining and 
his brother were present. The day after our 
arrival Sir Walter asked me to drive with him. 
We went in his open carriage to the Yarrow, 
where we got out, and Sir Walter, leaning on 
my arm, walked up the side of the river, pour- 
ing forth a continuous stream of anecdotes, 
traditions, and scraps of ballads. I was in the 
seventh heaven of delight, and thought I had 
never spent such a day. On Sunday Sir Wal- 
ter did not come down to breakfast, but sent 
a message to say that he had caught cold and 
had taken some medicine for it the night be- 
fore, which had made him ill, and would re- 
main in bed. When we sat at either lunch or 
dinner, I do not recollect which. Sir Walter 
walked into the room and sat down near the 
table, but ate nothing. He seemed in a dazed 
state, and took no notice of any one, but after 
a few minutes' silence, during which his daugh- 
ter Anne, who was at table, and was watching 
him with some anxiety, motioned to us to take 
no notice, he began in a quiet voice to tell us a 



story of a pauper lunatic, who, fancying he was 
a rich man, and was entertaining all sorts of 
high persons to the most splendid banquets, 
communicated to his doctor in confidence that 
there was one thing that troubled him much, 
and which he could not account for, and that 
was that all these exquisite dishes seemed to 
him to taste of oatmeal porridge. Sir Walter 
told this with much humour, and after a few 
minutes' silence began again, and told the same 
story over a second time, and then again a 
third time.* His daughter, who was watching 
him with increasing anxiety, then motioned to 
us to rise from table, and persuaded her father 
to return to his bedroom. Next day the doc- 
tor, who had been sent for, told us that he was 
seriously ill, and advised that his guests should 
leave at once, so that the house might be kept 
quiet and his daughter devote herself entirely 
to the care of her father. We accordingly left 
at once, and I never saw Sir Walter again. I 
still, however, retain a memorial of my visit. 
I had fallen into indifferent health in the pre- 
vious year, and been recommended Highland 
air. By Sir Walter's advice I was sent to live 
with a friend of his, the Reverend Doctor Mac- 
intosh Mackay, then minister of Laggan, in the 
Inverness-shire Highlands, and had passed my 
time learning from him the Gaelic language. 
This excited in me a taste for Celtic Antiqui- 
ties, and finding in Sir Walter's Library a copy 
of O'Connor's Rerum Hibernicarum Scriptores 
veteres, I sat up one night transcribing from it 
the Annals of Tighernac. Thi s transcript is still 
in my library — William F. Skene. 

" 27 Inverlkith Row, 
Sept. 1890." 



* An echo of one of his own singular illuetrationi (see 
Letters on Demonology) of the occ.<ksional collision between 
a disturbed i 



Demonology) of 
id imagination ai 



and the organa of eense. 



538 JOURNAL [April, 1831. 

already done the needful — that is, had bled and blistered severely, 
and placed me on a very restricted diet. Whether these precautions 
have been taken in time I cannot tell. I think they have, though se- 
vere in themselves, beat the disease. But I am alike prepared, 

*' Seu versare dolos, seu certae occumbere morti." * 

I only know that to live as I am just now is a gift little worth hav- 
ing. I think I will be in the Secret next week unless I recruit 
greatly. 

April 27. — They have cut me oS from animal food and fermented 
liquor of every kind, and would press upon me such trash as panada 
and the like, which affect my stomach. This I will none of, but 
quietly wait till my ordinary diet is permitted, and thank God I can fast 
with any one. I walked out and found the day delightful ; the woods 
are looking charming, just bursting forth to the tune of the birds. 
I have been whistling on my wits like so many chickens, and cannot 
miss any of them. I feel, on the whole, better than I have yet done. 
I believe I have fined and recovered, and so may be thankful. 

April 28 and 29. — Walter made his appearance, well and stout, 
and completely recovered of his stomach complaints by abstinence. 
He has youth on his side, and I in age must submit to be a Lazarus. 
The medical men persist in recommending a seton. I am no friend 
to these risky remedies, and will be sure of the necessity before I 
yield consent. The dying like an Indian under torture is no joke, and, 
as Commodore Trunnion says, I feel heart-whole as a biscuit. My 
mind turns to politics. I feel better just now, and so I am. I will 
wait till Lockhart comes, but that may be too late. 

1 JEneid ii. 62. 



MAY 

April 30 and May 1. — To meet Sandy Pringle to settle the day 
of election on Monday. Go on with Count Robert half-a-dozen leaves 
per day. I am not much pleased with my handiwork. The Chancery 
money seems like to be paid. This will relieve me of poor Charles, 
who is at present my chief burthen. The task of pumping my brains 
becomes inevitably harder when "both chain-pumps are choked be- 
low ;" ^ and though this may not be the case literally, yet the ap- 
prehension is wellnigh as bad. 

May 2. — The day passed as usual in dictating (too little) and rid- 
ing a good deal. I must get finished with Count Bobert, who is pro- 
gressing, as the Transatlantics say, at a very slow pace indeed. By 
the bye, I have a letter from Nathan T. Rossiter, Williamstown, New 
York City, offering me a collection of poems by Byron, which are 
said to have been found in Italy some years since by a friend of Mr. 
Rossiter. I don't see I can at all be entitled to these, so shall write 
to decline them. If Mr. Rossiter chooses to publish them in Italy or 
America he may, but, published here, they must be the property of 
Lord Byron's executors. 

May 3.— Sophia arrives — with all the children looking well and 
beautiful, except poor Johnnie, who looks very pale. But it is no 
wonder, poor thing ! 

May 4. — I have a letter from Lockhart, promising to be down by 
next Wednesday, that is, to-day. I will consult him about Byron's 
exec, and as to these poems said to be his Lordship's. They are 
very probably first copies thrown aside, or may not be genuine at all. 
I will be glad to see Lockhart. My pronunciation is a good deal im- 
proved. My time glides away ill employed, but I am afraid of the palsy. 
I should not like to be pinned to my chair. But I believe even that 
kind of life is more endurable than we could suppose. Your wishes 
are limited to your little circle — yet the idea is terrible to a man who 
has been active. My own circle in bodily matters is daily narrowing ; 
not so in intellectual matters, but I am perhaps a bad judge. The 
plough is coming to the end of the furrow, so it is likely I shall not 
reach the common goal of mortal life by a few years. I am now in 
my sixtieth year only, and 

" Three score and ten years do sum up." ' 

» Falconer's 5/iipxorecA:, p. 162— "The storm." ' Scotch Metrical Version of the 90th Psalm. 
12mo ed. London, Albion Press, 1810. 



540 JOURNAL [May 

May 5. — A fleece of letters, whicli must be answered, I suppose — 
all from persons, my zealous admirers, of course, and expecting a de- 
gree of generosity, which will put to rights all their maladies, phys- 
ical and mental ; and expecting that I can put to rights whatever 
losses have been their lot, raise them to a desirable rank, and [stand] 
their protector and patron. I must, they take it for granted, be as- 
tonished at having an address from a stranger; on the contrary, I 
would be astonished if any of these extravagant epistles were from 
any one who had the least title to enter into correspondence with me. 
I have all the plague of answering these teasing people. 

Mr. Burn, the architect, came in, struck by the appearance of my 
house from the road. He approved my architecture greatly. He 
tells me the edifice for Jeanie Deans — that is, her prototype — is nigh 
finished, so I must get the inscription ready.^ Mr. Burn came to meet 
with Pringle of Haining ; but, alas ! it is two nights since this poor 
young man, driving in from his own lake, where he had been fishing, 
an ill-broken horse ran away with him, and, at his own stable-door, 
overturned the vehicle and fractured poor Pringle's skull ; he died 
yesterday morning. A sad business ; so young a man, the proprietor 
of a good estate, and a well-disposed youth. His politics were, I 
think, mistaken, being the reverse of his father's ; but that is nothing 
at such a time. Burn went on to Richardson's place of Kirklands, 
where he is to meet the proprietor, whom I too would wish to see, but 
I can hardly make it out. Here is a world of arrangements. I think 
we will soon hit upon something. My son Walter takes leave of me 
to-day to return to Sheffield. At his entreaty I have agreed to put 



1 On the 18th October Sir Walter sent Mr. In June, 1818, however, he made ample 

Burn the following inscription for the monu- amends, and won the hearts of all classes of 

ment he had commissioned, and which now his countrymen by his beautiful pictures of 

stands in the churchyard of Irongray : — national character in the Heart of Midlothian. 

It is worth noticing also that ten years later, 

"This stone was erected by the Author ot viz., in December, 1828, his friend Richardson 

Waverley to the memory of Helen Walker, who having written that in the Tales of a Grand fa- 

died in the year of God, 1791. This humble in- ther "You have paid a debt which you owed to 

dividual practised in real life the virtues with the manes of the Covenanters for the flattering 

which fiction has invested the imaginary char- picture which you drew of Claverhouse in Old 

acter of Jeanie Deans; refusing the slightest Mortality. His character is inconceivable to 

departure from veractity, even to save the life me: the atrocity of his murder of those peas- 

of a sister, she nevertheless showed her kind- ants, as undauntedly devoted to their own good 

ness and fortitude, in rescuing her from the cause as himself to his, his personal (almost 

severity of the law, at the expense of personal hangman-like) superintendence of their execu- 

exertions, which the time rendered as diflacult tions, are wholly irreconcilable with a chival- 

as the motive was laudable. Respect the grave rous spirit, whi'ch, however scornful of the 

of Poverty when combined with the love of lowly, could never, in my mind, be cruel." 

Truth and dear affection. " Scott, in reply, gave his matured opinion in 

It is well known that on the publication of the following words: — 

Old Mortality many people were offended by " As to Covenanters and Malignants, they 

what was considered a caricature of the Cove- were both a set of cruel and bloody bigots, and 

nanters, and that Dr. M'Crie, the biographer had, notwithstanding, those virtues with which 

of Knox, wrote a series of papers in the Edin- bigotry is sometimes allied. Their characters 

hurgh Christian Instructor, '9i\i\ch.^coX\,9.fiecieA were of a kind much more picturesque than 

to despise, and said he would not read. He not beautiful; neither had the least idea either of 

only was obliged to read the articles, but found toleration or humanity, so that it happens 

it necessary to inspire or write an elaborate that, so far as they can be distinguished from 

defence of the truth of his own picture of the each other, one is tempted to hate most the 

Covenanters in the Number for January, 1817, party which chances to be uppermost for the 

of the Quarterly Review. time. " 



1831.] JOURNAL 541 

in a seton, which they seem all to recommend. My own opinion is, 
this addition to my tortures will do me no good ; but I cannot hold 
out against my son. So, when the present blister is well over, let 
them try their seton, as they call it. 

May 6 and V. — Here is a precious job. I have a formal remon- 
strance from these critical persons, Ballantyne and Cadell, against the 
last volume of Count Robert, which is within a sheet of being fin- 
ished. I suspect their opinion will be found to coincide with that 
of the public ; at least it is not very different from my own. The 
blow is a stunning one I suppose, for I scarcely feel it. It is singu- 
lar, but it comes with as little surprise as if I had a remedy ready. 
Yet God knows, I am at sea in the dark, and the vessel leaky, I think, 
into the bargain. I cannot conceive that I should have tied a knot 
with my tongue which my teeth cannot untie. We will see. I am 
determined to write a political pamphlet coute que coute ; ay, — should 
it cost me my life. 

I will right and left at these unlucky proof-sheets, and alter at 
least what I cannot mend. 

May 8. — I have suffered terribly, that is the truth, rather in body 
than in mind, and I often wish I could lie down and sleep without 
waking. But I will fight it out if I can. It would argue too great an 
attachment of consequence to my literary labours to sink under. Did 
I know how to begin, I would begin this very day, although I knew I 
should sink at the end. After all, this is but fear and faintness of 
heart, though of another kind from that which trembleth at a load- 
ed pistol. My bodily strength is terribly gone ; perhaps my mental 
too? 

May 9. — The weather uncommonly beautiful and I am very eager 
to get on thinning woods while the peeling season lasts. We made 
about £200 off wood last §eason, and this is a sum worth look- 
ing at. 

May 10. — Some repairs on the mill-dam still keep the people em- 
ployed, and we cannot get to the thinning. Yet I have been urging 
them for a month. It's a great fault of Scottish servants that they 
cannot be taught to time their turns. 

May 11. — By old practice I should be going into town to-day, the 
Court sitting to-morrow. Am I happier that I am free from this 
charge ? Perhaps I am ; that is certain, time begins to make my lit- 
erary labour more precious than usual. Very weak, scarce able to 
crawl about without the pony — lifted on and off — and unable to walk 
half a mile save with great pain. 

May 12. — Resolved to lay by Robert of Paris, and take it up when 
I can work. Thinking on it really makes my head swim, and that is 
not safe. Miss Ferrier comes out to us. This gifted personage, be- 
sides having great talents, has conversation the least exigeante of any 
author, female at least, whom I have ever seen among the long list I 
have encountered, — simple, full of humour, and exceedingly ready 



542 JOURNAL [Mat 

at repartee ; and all this without the least affectation of the blue 
stocking.* 

May 13. — Mr., or more properly Dr., Macintosh Mackay comes 
out to sec me, a simple learned man, and a Highlander who weighs 
his own nation justly— a modest and estimable person. 

I was beat up at midnight to sign a warrant against some delin- 
quents. I afterwards heard that the oJSicers were pursued by a mob 
from Galashiels, with purpose of deforcing them as far as St. Bos- 
well's Green, but the men were lodged in Jedburgh Castle. 

Reports of mobs at all the elections, which, I fear, will prove too 
true. They have much to answer for who in gaiety of heart have 
brought a peaceful and virtuous population to such a pass. 

May 14. — Rode with Lockhart and Mr. Mackay through the plan- 
tations, and spent a pleasanter day than* of late months. Story of a 
haunted glen in Laggan : — A chieftain's daughter or cousin loved a 
man of low degree. Her kindred discovered the intrigue and pun- 
ished the lover's presumption by binding the unhappy man, and lay- 
ing him naked in one of the large ants' nests common in a Highland 
forest. He died in agony of course, and his mistress became dis- 
tracted, roamed wildly in the glen till she died, and her phantom, 
finding no repose, haunted it after her death to such a degree that 
the people shunned the road by day as well as night. Mrs. Grant of 
Laggan tells the story, with the addition, that her husband, then min- 
ister of Laggan, fixed a religious meeting in the place, and, by the ex- 
ercise of public worship there, overcame the popular terror of the Red 
Woman. Dr. Mackay seems to think that she was rather banished 
by a branch of the Parliamentary road running up the glen than by 
the prayers of his predecessor. Dr. Mackay, it being Sunday, fa- 
voured us with an excellent discourse on the Socinian controversy, 
which I wish my friend Mr. Laidlaw had heard. 

May 15. — Dr. M. left us early this morning; and I rode and 
studied as usual, working at the Tales of My Grandfather. . Our good 
and learned Doctor wishes to go down the Tweed to Berwick. It is 
a laudable curiosity, and I hope will be agreeably satisfied. 

May 16 and 17. — I wrote and rode as usual, and had the pleasure 
of Miss Ferrier's company in my family hours, which was a great sat- 
isfaction ; she has certainly less affectation than any female I have 
known that has stood so high — Joanna Baillie hardly excepted. By 
the way, she [Mrs. Baillie] has entered on the Socinian controversy, 
for which I am very sorry ; she has published a number of texts on 
which she conceives the controversy to rest, but it escapes her that she 
can only quote them through a translation. I am sorry this gifted wom- 
an is hardly doing herself justice, and doing what is not required at her 
hands. Mr. Laidlaw of course thinks it the finest thing in the world.' 

1 See Miss Ferrier's account of this visit pre- ' Mr. Carruthers remarks in his Abbotsford 

fixed to Mr. Bentley's choice edition of her iVofanda : — " Joanna Baillie published a thin 
works, 6 vols. cr. 8vo, London, 1881. volume of selections from the New Testament 



1881.] JOURNAL 543 

May 1 8. — Went to Jedburgh to the election, greatly against the 
wishes of my daughters. The mob were exceedingly vociferous and 
brutish, as they usually are now-a-days. But the Sheriff had two 
troops of dragoons at Ancrum Bridge, and all went off quietly. The 
populace gathered in formidable numbers — a thousand from Hawick 
alone ; they were sad blackguards, and the day passed with much 
clamour and no mischief. Henry Scott was re-elected — for the last 
time, I suppose. Trojafuit. 

I left the burgh in the midst of abuse and the gentle hint of 
" Burke Sir Walter." Much obliged to the brave lads of Jeddart. 
Upwards of forty freeholders voted for Henry Scott, and only four- 
teen for the puppy that opposed him. Even of this party he gained 
far the greater number by the very awkward coalition with Sir Will- 
iam Scott of Ancrum. I came home at seven at night. 

May 20. — This is the Selkirk election, which I supposed would be 
as tumultuous as the Jedburgh one, but the soutars of Selkirk had 
got a new light, and saw in the proposed Reform Bill nothing but a 
mode of disfranchising their ancient burgh. Although the crowd was 
great, yet there was a suflBcient body of special constables, hearty in 
their useful office, and the election passed as quietly as I ever wit- 
nessed one. I came home before dinner, very quiet. I am afraid 
there is something serious in Galashiels ; Jeffrey is fairly funked 
about it, and has written letters to the authorities of Roxburghshire 
and Selkirkshire to caution us against making the precognitions pub- 
lic, which looks ill. Yet I think he would have made arrests when 
the soldiers were in the country. The time at which I settled 
at Abbotsford, Whitsunday 1811, I broke up a conspiracy of the 
weavers. It will look like sympathising with any renewal if another 
takes place just now. Incendiary letters have been sent, and the house- 
holders are in a general state of alarm. The men at Jedburgh Castle 
are said to be disposed to make a clean breast ; if so, we shall soon 
know more of the matter. Lord William Graham has been nearly 
murdered at Dumbarton. Why should he not have brought down 
50 or 100 lads with the kilts, each with a good kent' in his hand fit 
to call the soul out of the body of these weavers? They would have 
kept order, I warrant you. 

May 21. — Little more than my usual work and my usual exercise. 
I rode out through the plantations and saw the woodmen getting down 
what was to be felled. It seems there will be as much for sale as last 
year of bark : I think about £40 worth. A very nice additional pond 
to the sawmill has been executed. As for my Tales, they go on well, 
and are amusing to myself at least. The History of France is very 
entertaining. 

'regarding the nature and dignity of Jesus a subject. 'What had she to do with questions 

Christ.' The tendency of the work was Socin- of that sort?' He refused to add the book to 

ian, or at least Arian, and Scott was indignant his library and gave it to Laidlaw."— P, 179, 

that his friend should have oieddled with such ^ A long staff. 



544 JOURNAL 



[May 



May 22. — I have a letter from my friend John Thomson of Dud- 
dingston. I had transmitted him an order for the Duke of Buccleuch 
for his best picture, at his best price, leaving the choice of the subject 
and everything else to himself. He expresses the wish to do, at an 
ordinary price, a picture of common size. The declining to put him- 
self forward w^ill, I fear, be thought like shrinking from his own rep- 
utation, which nobody has less need to do. The Duke may wish a 
large picture for a large price for furnishing a large apartment, and 
the artist should not shrink from it. I have written him my opinion. 
The feeling is no doubt an amiable, though a false one. He is mod- 
est in proportion to his talents. But what brother of the finer arts 
ever approached [excellence] so as to please himself ? 

May 23, 24, and 25. — Worked and exercised regularly. I do not 
feel that I care twopence about the change of diet as to taste, but I 
feel my strength much decayed. On horseback my spine feels re- 
markably sore, and I am tired with a few miles' ride. We expect 
Walter coming down for the Fife election. 



[From May 25th to October 9th there are no dates in the Journal, 
but the entry beginning " I have been very ill " must have been made 
about the middle of September. " In the family circle," says Mr. 
Lockhart, " he seldom spoke of his illness at all, and when he did, it 
was always in a hopeful strain." " In private, to Laidlaw and myself, 
his language corresponded exactly with the tone of the Diary. He 
expressed his belief that the chances of recovery were few — very few 
— but always added that he considered it his duty to exert what fac- 
ulties remained to him for the sake of his creditors to the very last. 
— *■ I am very anxious,' he repeatedly said to me, ' to be done one way 
or other with this Count Robert, and a little story about the Castle 
Dangerous — w^hich also I had long in my head — but after that I will 
attempt nothing more, at least not until I have finished all the notes 
for the Novels,' " etc. 

On the 1 8th July he set out in company with Mr. Lockhart to vis- 
it Douglas Castle, St. Bride's Church and its neighbourhood, for the 
purpose of verifying the scenery of Castle Dangerous, then partly 
printed, returning on the 20th. 

He finished that book and Count Robert before the end of Au- 
gust. 

In September, Mr. Lockhart, then staying at Chiefswood, and 
proposing to make a run into Lanarkshire for a day or two, mentioned 
overnight at Abbotsford that he intended to take his second son, then 
a boy of five or six years of age, and Sir Walter's namesake, with him 
on the stage-coach. 

Next morning the following affectionate billet was put into his 
hands : — 



1831.] JOURNAL 645 

To J. G. LocKHART, Esq., Chief swood. 
" Dear Don, or Doctor Giovanni, 

" Can you really be thinking of taking Wa-Wa by the coach — 
and I think you said outside ? Think of Johnny, and be careful of 
this little man. Are you jpar hazard something in the state of the 
poor capitaine des dragons that comes in singing : — 

* Comment ? Parbleu ! Qu'en pensez vous, 
Bon gentilhomme, et pas un sous ' ? 

" K so, remember ' Richard's himself again,' and make free use of 
the enclosed cheque on Cadell for £50. He will give you the ready 
as you pass through, and you can pay when I ask. 

" Put horses to your carriage, and go hidalgo fashion. We shall 
all have good days yet. 

'And those sad days you deign to spend 
With me I shall requite them all; 
Sir Eustace for his friends shall send 
And thank their love in Grayling Hall!'* 

»W.S."» 

On the 15th September he tells the Duke of Buccleuch, "I am 
going to try whether the air of Naples will make an old fellow of 
sixty young again." 

On the 17th the old splendour of the house was revived. Col. 
Glencairn Burns, son of the poet, then in Scotland, came 

"To stir with joy the towers of Abbotsford." 

The neighbours were assembled, and, having his son to help him. Sir 
Walter did the honours of the table once more as of yore. 

On the 19th the poet Wordsworth arrived, and left on the 2 2d. 

On the 20th, Mrs. Lockhart set out for London to prepare for her 
father's reception there, and on the 23d Sir Walter left Abbotsford 
for London, where he arrived on the 28th.^] 

1 See Crabbe's Sir Etistace Grey. • See Life, vol. x. pp. 76-106. 

9 Life, vol. X. pp. 100-1. 

35 



OCTOBER 

INTERVAL 

I HAVE been very ill, and if not quite unable to write, I have been 
unfit to do so. I have wrought, however, at two Waverley things, 
but not well, and, what is worse, past mending. A total prostration 
of bodily strength is my chief complaint. I cannot walk half a mile. 
There is, besides, some mental confusion, with the extent of which I 
am not perhaps fully acquainted. I am perhaps setting. I am my- 
self inclined to think so, and, like a day that has been admired as a 
fine one, the light of it sets down amid mists and storms. I neither 
regret nor fear the approach of death if it is coming. I would com- 
pound for a little pain instead of this heartless muddiness of mind 
which renders me incapable of anything rational. The expense of 
my journey will be something considerable, which I can provide 
against by borrowing £500 from Mr. Gibson. To Mr. Cadell I owe 
already, with the cancels on these apoplectic books, about £200, and 
must run it up to £500 more at least ; yet this heavy burthen would 
be easily borne if I were to be the Walter Scott I once was ; but the 
change is great. This would be nothing, providing that I could 
count on these two books having a sale equal to their predecessors ; 
but as they do not deserve the same countenance, they will not and 
cannot have such a share of favour, and I have only to hope that they 
will not involve the Waverley, which are now selling 30,000 volumes 
a month, in their displeasure. Something of a Journal and the 
Reliquiae Trotcosienses will probably be moving articles, and I have 
in short no fears in pecuniary matters. The ruin which I fear in- 
volves that of my King and country. Well says Colin Mackenzie : — 

*' Shall this desolation strike thy towers alone ? 
No, fair Ellandonan ! such ruin 'twill bring, 
That the storm shall have power to unsettle the throne, 
And thy fate shall be mixed with the fate of thy King."' 

I fear that the great part of the memorialists are bartering away 
the dignity of their rank by seeking to advance themselves by a job, 
■which is a melancholy sight. The ties between democrat and aristo- 
crat are sullen discontent with each other. The former are regarded 

' See "Ellandonan Castle," in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border , Scott's Poeh'cai Works, \o\. 
iv. p. 361. 



Oct. 1831.] JOURNAL 547 

as a house-dog which has manifested incipient signs of canine mad- 
ness, and is not to be trusted. Walter came down to-day to join our 
party. 

[September 20 ?] — Yesterday, Wordsworth, his son [nephew*] and 
daughter, came to see us, and we went up to Yarrow. The eldest son 
of Lord Ravensworth also came to see us, with his accomplished lady. 
We had a pleasant party, and to-day were left by the Liddells, manent 
the three Wordsworths, cum cceteris, a German or Hungarian Count 
Erdody, or some such name. 

We arrived in London [September 28,] after a long and painful 
journey, the weakness of my limbs palpably increasing, and the physic 
prescribed making me weaker every day. Lockhart, poor fellow, is as 
attentive as possible, and I have, thank God, no pain whatever ; could 
the end be as easy it would be too happy. I fancy the instances of 
Euthanasia are not very uncommon. Instances there certainly are 
among the learned and the unlearned — Dr. Black, Tom Purdie. I 
should wish, if it please God, to sleep off in such a quiet way ; but we 
must take what Fate sends. I have not warm hopes of being myself 
again. 

Wordsworth and his daughter, a fine girl, were with us on the last 
day. I tried to write in her diary, and made an ill-favoured botch — 
no help for it. " Stitches will wear, and ill ones will out," as the tailor 



[October 8, London.] — The King has located me on board the 
Barham, with my suite, consisting of my eldest son, youngest daugh- 
ter, and perhaps my daughter-in-law, which, with poor Charles, will 
make a goodly tail. I fancy the head of this tail cuts a poor figure, 
scarce able to stir about. 

The town is in a foam with politics. The report is that the Lords 
will throw out the Bill, and now, morning of 8th October, I learn it is 
quoited downstairs like a shovel-board shilling, with a plague to it, as 
the most uncalled-for attack upon a free constitution, under which 
men lived happily, which ever was ventured in my day. Well, it 
would have been pleasing to have had some share in so great a vic- 
tory, yet even now I am glad I have been quiet. I believe I should 
only have made a bad figure. Well, I will have time enough to think 
of all this. 

October 9. — The report to-day is that the Chancellor' will unite 
with the Duke of Wellington and Sir Robert Peel to bring in a Bill 
of his own concocting, modified to the taste of the other two, with 

i Now the Bishop of St. Andrew's. upon the whole he had led. ' '—Knight's Words- 

As has been already said, Wordsworth ar- worth, vol. iii. p. 201. 

rived on the 19th and left on the 22d Septem- „ w^^ho™.«,.*>, r,«»/.e ♦v,,* ^„ r^io«;r,„ ♦i,^ ,r-.i 

, 4V,„ • ji i„„.„.3 <•-«>>, ^lT«^.^„„♦in in,,,..^ Wordsworth notes that on placing the vol- 

ber, I. e. the visit lasted from Monday till Thurs- „_,„ . , . j„„„i,t„„,„ i,„„^ ei» itt^i* „„;j 

j»J rm,^ j„t„., „ tv^ T.^„«i„i l,«♦,„«,^., ume m his daughter's band, Sir Walter said, 

day. There are no dates in the Journal between i, t cv^„i^ ««♦ i,„^« ^«„« „«J*v; e .u^^ i,i_ J 

\r ncr J r>». i,„_o u.,* "iir^-^or^^^.v o„^^ 1 should uot have douc anythinEj Of this Kind 

May 25 and October 8, but Wordsworth ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^ j^ , sake; they are probably 

2\^r^ZllnfZ7^}f<^t^wif^^^^^ ^^^ last Verses I shall ever write. "-Knight's 

on the morning of that day bir Walter and I wnrd<:inorih vol iii n 201 

had a serious conversation tete-d-tete, when he ""ordmorth, vol. in. p. 201. 

spoke with gratitude of the happy life which ' Lord Brougham. 



548 JOURNAL [Oct. 

whicli some think they will be satisfied. This is not very unlikely, 
for Lord Brougham has been displeased with not having been admit- 
ted to Lord John Russell's task of bill-drawing. He is a man of un- 
bounded ambition, as w-ell as unbounded talent and [uncertain] tem- 
per. There have been hosts of people here, particularly the Duke of 
Buccleuch, to ask me to the christening of his son and heir, when the 
King stands godfather. I am asked as an ally and friend of the fam- 
ily, which makes the compliment greater. Singular that I should 
have stood godfather to this Duke himself, representing some great 
man. 

October 10. — Yesterday we dined alone, so I had an opportunity 
of speaking seriously to John; but I fear procrastination. It is the 
cry of Friar Bacon's Brazen head, time is — time was ; but the time 
may soon come — time shall be no more. The Whigs are not very 
bold, not much above a hundred met to support Lord Grey to the last. 
Their resolutions are moderate, probably because they could not have 
carried stronger. I went to breakfast at Sir Robert Henry Inglis', 
and coming home about twelve found the mob rising in the Regent's 
Park, and roaring for Reform as rationally as a party of Angusshire 
cattle would have done. 

Sophia seemed to act as the jolly host in the play. " These are 
my windows," and, shutting the shutters, "let them batter — I care not 
serving the good Duke of Norfolk." After a time they passed out of 
our sight, hurrying doubtless to seek a more active scene of reforma- 
tion. x\s the night closed, the citizens who had hitherto contented 
themselves with shouting, became more active, and when it grew dark 
set forth to make work for the glaziers. 

October 11, Tuesday. — We set out in the morning to breakfast 
with Lady Gifford. We passed several glorious specimens of the last 
night's feats of the reformers. The Duke of Newcastle's and Lord 
Dudley's houses were sufficiently broken. The maidens, however, had 
resisted, and from the top of the house with coals, which had greatly 
embarrassed the assembled mob. Surely if the people are determined 
on using a right so questionable, and the Government resolved to con- 
sider it as too sacred to be resisted, some modes of resistance might 
be resorted to of a character more ludicrous than firearms, — coals, for 
example, scalding oil, boiling water, or some other mode of defence 
against a sudden attack. We breakfasted with a very pleasant party 
at Lady Gifford's. I was particularly happy to meet Lord Sidmouth ; 
at seventy-five, he tells me, as much in health and spirits as at sixty. 
I also met Captain Basil Hall, to whom I owe so much for promoting 
my retreat in so easy a manner. I found my appointment to the 
Barham had been pointed out by Captain Henry Duncan, R.N., as 
being a measure which would be particularly agreeable to the officers 
of the service. This is too high a compliment. In returning I called 
to see the repairs at Lambeth, which are proceeding under the able 
direction of Blore, who met me there. They are in the best Gothic 



1831.] JOURNAL 549 

taste, and executed at tlie expense of a large sum, to be secured by- 
way of mortgage, payable in fifty years ; each incumbent within the 
time paying a proportion of about £4000 a year. I was pleased to 
see this splendour of church architecture returning again. 

Lord Mahon, a very amiable as well as a clever young man, comes 
to dinner with Mr. Croker ; Lady Louisa Stuart in the afternoon, or, 
more properly, at night. 

October 12. — Misty morning — looks like a yellow fog, which is the 
curse of London. I would hardly take my share of it for a share of 
its wealth and its curiosity — a vile double-distilled fog of the most 
intolerable kind. Children scarce stirring yet, but baby and the 
Macaw beginning their Macaw notes. Among other feats of the mob 
on Monday, a gentleman who saw the onslaught told me two men got 
on Lord Londonderry's carriage and struck him ; the chief constable 
came to the rescue and belaboured the rascals, who ran and roared. 
I should have liked to have seen the onslaught — Dry beating, and 
plenty of it, is a great operator of a reform among these gentry. At 
the same time Lord Londonderry is a brain-sick man, very unlike his 
brother. He horsewhipped a sentinel under arms at Vienna for obey- 
ing his consigne, which was madness. On the other side all seems to 
be prepared. Heavy bodies of the police are stationed in all the 
squares and places supporting each other regularly. The men them- 
selves say that their numbers amount to 3000, and that they are sup- 
ported by troops in still greater numbers, so that the Conservative 
force is sufficiently strong. Four o'clock — a letter from the Duke 
saying the party is put off by command of the King, and probably 
the day will be put off until the Duke's return from Scotland, so our 
hopes of seeing the fine ceremony are all ended. 

October 13. — Node pluit tota — an excellent recipe for a mob, so 
they have been quiet accordingly, as we are informed. Two or three 
other wet nights would do much to weary them out with inactivity. 
Milman, whom I remember a fine gentlemanlike young man, dined 
here yesterday. He says the fires have never ceased in his country, 
but that the oppressions and sufferings occasioned by the poor's 
rates are very great, and there is no persuading the English farmer 
that an amended system is comfortable both for rich and poor. The 
plan of ministers is to keep their places maugre Peers and Commons 
both, while they have the countenance of the crown ; but if a Prince 
shelters, by authority of the prerogative, ministers against the will of 
the other authority of the state, does he not quit the defence which 
supposes he can do no wrong ? This doctrine would make a curious 
change of parties. Will they attempt to legitimize the Fitz Clar- 
ences? God forbid! Yet it may end in that, — it would be Paris 
all over. The family is said to have popular qualities. Then what 
would be the remedy ? Marry ! seize on the person of the Princess 
Victoria, carrying her north and setting up the banner of England 
with the Duke of W. as dictator ! Well, I am too old to fight, and 



650 JOURNAL [Oct. 

therefore should keep the windy side of the law ; besides, I shall be 
buried before times come to a decision. In the meantime the King 
dare not go to stand godfather to the son of one of his most power- 
ful peers, a party of his own making, lest his loving subjects pull the 
house about the ears of his noble host and the company invited to 
meet him. Their loyalty has a pleasant way of displaying itself. I 
will go to Westminster after breakfast and see what people are say- 
ing, and whether the Barham is likely to sail, or whether its course is 
not altered to the coast of the Low Countries instead of the Medi- 
terranean. 

October 14. — Tried to walk to Lady Louisa Stuart's, but took a 
little vertigo and came back. Much disturbed by a letter from Wal- 
ter. He is like to be sent on an obnoxious service with very inade- 
quate force, little prospect of thanks if he does his duty, and much 
of blame if he is unable to accomplish it. I have little doubt he will 
wai'e his mother's calf-skin on them. 

The manufacturing districts are in great danger. London seems 
pretty secure. Sent off the revise of introduction to Mr. Cadell.^ 

October 16. — A letter from Walter with better news. He has 
been at hard-heads with the rogues and come o2 with advantage ; in 
short, practised with success the art of drawing two souls out of one 
weaver.^ All seems quiet now, and I suppose the Major will get his 
leav^e as proposed. Two ladies — [one] Byron's Mary Chaworth — 
have been frightened to death while the mob tore the dying creat- 
ures from their beds and proposed to throw them into the flames, 
drank the wine, destroyed the furniture, and committed other ex- 
cesses of a jacquerie.^ They have been put down, however, by a 
strong force of yeomanry and regulars. Walter says the soldiers fired 
over the people's heads, whereas if they had levelled low, the bullets 
must have told more among the multitude. I cannot approve of this, 
for in such cases severity is ultimate mercy.* However, if they have 
made a sufficient impression to be striking — why, enough is as good 
as a feast. 

There is a strange story about town of ghost-seeing vouched by 
Lord Prudhoe, a near relation of the Duke of Northumberland, and 
whom I know as an honourable man. A colonel described as a cool- 
headed sensible man of worth and honour, Palgrave, who dined with 
us yesterday, told us twice over the story as vouched by Lord Prud- 
hoe, and Lockhart gave us Colonel Felix's edition, which coincided 
exactly. I will endeavour to extract the essence of both. While at 
Grand Cairo they were attracted by the report of a physician who 
could do the most singular magical feats, and was in the habit not 
only of relieving the living, but calling up the dead. This sage was 

1 The Introductory address to Count Robert < Scott's views received strong confirmation 
of Paris bears the date October 15th, 1831. a few days later at Bristol, where the authori- 

2 Twelfth Night, Act ii. Sc. 3. ties, through mistaken humanity, hesitated to 
s See Moores edition of Byron's Works^ vol. order the military to act. 

vii. pp. 43-44, note. 



1831.] JOURNAL 551 

the member of a tribe in the interior part of Africa. They were 
some time (two years) in finding him out, for he by no means pressed 
himself on the curious, nor did he on the other hand avoid them ; 
but when he came to Grand Cairo readily agreed to gratify them by 
a sight of his wonders. The scenes exhibited were not visible to the 
operator himself, nor to the person for whose satisfaction they were 
called up, but, as in the case of Dr. Dee and other adepts, by means 
of a viewer, an ignorant Nubian boy, whom, to prevent imposi- 
tion, the English gentlemen selected for the purpose, and, as they 
thought, without any risk of imposture by confederacy betwixt him 
and the physician. The process was as follows : — A black square 
was drawn in the palm of the boy's hand, or rather a kind of penta- 
cle with an Arabic character inscribed at each angle. The figures 
evoked were seen through this space as if the substance of the hand 
had been removed. Magic rites, and particularly perfumes, were lib- 
erally resorted to. After some fumigation the magician declared that 
they could not proceed until the seven flags should become visible. 
The boy declared he saw nothing, then said he saw a flag, then two ; 
often hesitated at the number for a certain time, and on several occa- 
sions the spell did not work and the operation went no further, but 
in general the boy saw the seven flags through the aperture in his 
hand. The magician then said they must call the Sultan, and the 
boy said he saw a splendid tent fixed, surrounded by immense hosts, 
Eblis no doubt, and his angels. The person evoked was then named, 
and appeared accordingly. The only indispensable requisite was 
that he was named speedily, for the Sultan did not like to be kept 
waiting. Accordingly, William Shakespeare being named, the boy 
declared that he saw a Frank in a dress which he described as that 
of the reign of Elizabeth or her successor, having a singular counte- 
nance, a high forehead, and a very little beard. Another time a 
brother of the Colonel was named. The boy said he saw a Frank in 
his uniform dress and a black groom behind him leading a superb 
horse. The dress was a red jacket and white pantaloons ; and the 
principal figure turning round, the boy announced that he wanted his 
arm, as was the case with Felix's brother. The ceremony was re- 
peated fourteen times ; successfully in twelve instances, and in two 
it failed from non-appearance of the seven banners in the first in- 
stance. The apparent frankness of the operator was not the least 
surprising part of the affair. He made no mystery, said he possess- 
ed this power by inheritance, as a family gift ; yet that he could 
teach it, and was willing to do so, for no enormous sum — nay, one 
which seemed very moderate. I think two gentlemen embraced the 
offer. One of them is dead and the other still abroad. The sage 
also took a price for the exhibition of his skill, but it was a moderate 
one, being regulated by the extent of the perfumes consumed in the 
ceremony. 

There remains much more to ask I understood the witnesses do 



552 JOURNAL [Oct. 

not like to bother about, wbicb is very natural. One would like to 
know a little more of tbe Sultan, of the care taken to secure the 
fidelity of the boy who was the viewer and on whom so much de- 
pended ; whether another sage practising the same feat, as it was said 
to be hereditary, was ever known to practise in the city. The truth 
of a story irreconcilable with the common course of nature must de- 
depend on cross-examination. If we should find, while at Malta, 
that we had an opportunity of expiscating this matter, though at 
the expense of a voyage to Alexandria, it would hardly deter me.^ 
The girls go to the Chapel Royal this morning at St. James's. A 
visit from the Honourable John Forbes, son of my old and early 
friend Lord Forbes, who is our fellow-passenger. The ship expects 
presently to go to sea. I was very glad to see this young officer and 
to hear his news. Drummond and I have been friends from our in- 
fancy. 

October 17. — The morning beautiful. To-day I go to look after 
the transcripts in the Museum and have a card to see a set of chess- 
men^ thrown up by the sea on the coast of Scotland, which were 
offered to sale for £100. The King, Queen, Knight, etc., were in the 
costume of the 14th century, the substance ivory or rather the tusk 
of the morse, somewhat injured by the salt water in which they had 
been immersed for some time. 

Sir John Malcolm told us a story about Garrick and his wife. 
The lady admired her husband greatly, but blamed him for a taste for 
low life, and insisted that he loved better to play Scrub to a low-lifed 
audience than one of his superior characters before an audience of 
taste. On one particular occasion she was in her box in the theatre. 
Richard III. was the performance, and Garrick's acting, especially in 
the night scene, drew down universal applause. After the play was 



1 At Malta, accordingly, we find Sir Walter to the questions likely to be asked. So he was 

making inquiry regarding this Arabian conjur- more perfect when consulted by Lord Prudhoe 

er, and writing to Mr. Lockhart, on Nov. 1831, than at first, when he made various blunders, 

in the following terms : — and when we must needs say falsum in uno 

" I have got a key to the conjuring story of falsum in ornnibtis. As all this will come out 
Alexandria and Grand Cairo. I have seen very one day, I have no wish to mingle in the con- 
distinct letters of Sir John Stoddart's son, who troversy. . . . There are still many things to 
attended three of the formal exhibitions which explain, but I think the mystery is unearthed 
broke down, though they were repeated after- completely." 

wards with success. Young Stoddart is an ex- See also Lane's Egyptians for an account of 

cellent Arabian scholar— an advantage which I what appears to be the same man in 1837. 

understand is more imperfectly enjoyed by Lord Also Quarterly Review, No. 117, pp. 190-208. 

Prudhoe and Colonel Felix. Much remains to for an examination of this "Magic Mirror'' 

be explained, but the boldness of the attempt exhibition. 

exceeds anything since the days of the Autom- 2 a hoard of seventy-eight chess-men found 

aton chess-player, or the Bottle conjurer. The in the island of Lewis in 1831. The greater 

first time Shakespeare was evoked he appeared number of the figures were purchased for iLe 

in the complexion of an Arab. This seems to British Museum, and formed the subject of a 

have been owing to the first syllable of his learned dissertation by Sir Frederick Madden ; 

name, which resembled the Arabian word see Archceologia, xxiv. Eleven of these very 

Sheik, and suggested the idea of an Arabian interesting pieces fell into the hands of Scott's 

chief to the conjurer. A gentleman named friend, C. K. Sharpe, and afterwards of Lord 

Galloway has bought the secret, and talks of be- Londesborough. More recently these identical 

ing frightened. There can be little doubt that, pieces were purchased for the Museum of An- 

having so far interested himself, it would be- tiquities, Edinburgh, where they now are. See 

come his interest to put the conjurer more up Proc. Soc. Antiq., vol. xxiii. 



1831.] JOURNAL 553 

over Mrs. G. proposed going* home, whicli Grarrick declined, alleging 
he had some business in the green-room, which must detain him. In 
short, the lady was obliged to acquiesce, and wait the beginning of a 
new entertainment, in which was introduced a farmer giving his 
neighbours an account of the wonders seen on a visit to London. This 
character was received with such peals of applause that Mrs. Garrick 
began to think it rivalled those which had been so lately lavished on 
Richard the Third. At last she observed her little spaniel dog was 
making efforts to get towards the balcony which separated him from 
the facetious farmer. Then she became aware of the truth. " How 
strange," she said, " that a dog should know, his master, and a woman, 
in the same circumstances, should not recognise her husband !" 

October 18. — Sophia had a small but lively party last night, as in- 
deed she has had every night since we were here — Ladies — [Lady 
Stafford,] Lady Louisa Stuart, Lady Montagu, Miss Montagu, Lady 
[Davy], [Mrs.] Macleod, and two or three others ; Gentlemen — Lord 
Montagu, Macleod, Lord Dudley, Rogers [Mackintosh]. A good deal 
of singing. If Sophia keeps to early hours she may beat London for 
small parties as poor Miss White did, and without much expense. 
A little address is all that is necessary. Sir John^ insists on my 
meeting this Rammohun Roy;^ I am no believer in his wandering 
knight, so far. The time is gone of sages who travelled to collect 
wisdom as well as heroes to reap honour. Men think and fight for 
money. I won't see the man if I can help it. Flatterers are difficult 
enough to keep at a distance though they be no renegades. I hate a 
fellow who begins with throwing away his own religion, and then af- 
fects a prodigious respect for another. 

October 19. — Captain H. Duncan called with Captain Pigot, a 
smart-looking gentlemanlike man, and announces his purpose of sail- 
ing on Monday. I have made my preparations for being on board on 
Sunday, which is the day appointed. Captain Duncan told me jocu- 
larly never to take a naval captain's word on shore, and quoted Sir 
William Scott, who used to say, waggishly, that there was nothing so 
accommodating as a naval captain on shore ; but when on board he be- 
came a peremptory lion. Henry Duncan has behaved very kindly, 
and says he only discharges the wishes of his service in making me 
as easy as possible, which is very handsome. No danger of feud, 
except about politics, which would be impolite on my part, and 
though it bars out one great subject of discourse, it leaves enough 
besides. That I might have nothing doubtful, Walter arrives with 
his wife, ready to sail, so what little remains must be done without 



» Sir John Malcolm, who was at this time among the contributors to that shrine of gen- 
ii, p. for Launceston. His last public appear- ius." Sir John was struck down by paralysis 
ance was in London, at a meeting convened on the following day, and died in May, 1833. 
for the purpose of raising a monument of his 

friend Sir Walter, and his concluding words ' The celebrated Brahmin philosopher and 

were, that when he himself " was gone, his son theist; born in Bengal about 1774, died at Sta- 

might be proud to say that his father had been pleton Grove, near Bristol, September 27, 1833. 



554 JOURNAL [Oct. 

loss of time. This is our last morning, so I have money to draw for 
and pay away. To see our dear Lord Montagu too. The Duchess 
came yesterday. I suppose £50 will clear me, with some balance for 
Gibraltar. 

I leave this country uncertain if it has got a total pardon or only 
a reprieve. I won't think of it, as I can do no good. It seems to be 
in one of those crises by which Providence reduces nations to their 
original elements.^ If I had my health, I should take no worldly fee, 
not to be in the bustle ; but I am as weak as water, and I shall be 
glad when I have put the Mediterranean between the island and me. 

October 21 and 22. — Spent in taking of farewell and adieus, which 
had been put oS till now. A melancholy ceremonial, with some a 
useless one ; yet there are friends whom it sincerely touches one to 
part with. It is the cement of life giving way in a moment. An- 
other unpleasant circumstance is — one is called upon to recollect 
those whom death or estrangement has severed, after starting merrily 
together in the voyage of life. 

October 23. — Portsmouth; arrived here in the evening. Found 
the Barham will not sail till 26th October, that is Wednesday next. 
The girls break loose, mad with the craze of seeing sights, and 
run the risk of our losing some of our things and deranging the 
naval officers, who offer their services with their natural gallantry. 
Captain Pigot came to breakfast, with several other officials. The 
girls contrived to secure a sight of the Block manufactory, together 
with that of the Biscuit, also invented by Brunei. I think that I 
have seen the first of these wonderful [sights] in 1816, or about that 
time.* Sir Thomas Foley gives an entertainment to the Admiralty, 
and sends to invite [me] ; but I pleaded health, and remained at home. 
Neither will I go out sight-seeing, which madness seems to have 
seized my womankind. This ancient town is one of the few in Eng- 
land which is fortified, and which gives it a peculiar appearance. It 
is much surrounded with heaths or thin poor muirs covered with 
heather, very barren, yet capable of being converted into rich arable 
and pasturage. I would [not] desire a better estate than to have 
2000 acres which would be worth 40 shillings an acre. 

October 24. — My womankind are gone out with Walter and Cap- 
tain Hall. I wish they would be moderate in their demands on peo- 
ple's complaisance. They little know how inconvenient are such 
seizures. A sailor is in particular a bad refuser, and before he can 
turn three times round, he is bound with a triple knot to all kinds 

1 Sir "Walter's fears for the country were also point out to me any one place in Europe where 

shared by some of the wisest men in it. The an old man could go to and be quite sure of being 

Duke of Wellington, it is well known, was most safe and dying in peace?" — Stanhope Notes, p. 

desponding, and he anticipated greater horror 224. 

from a convulsion here than in any other Eu- ^ See Mr. Charles Cowan's privately printed 

ropean nation. Reminiscences for Scott's recollections of his 

Talleyrand said to the Duke during the Re- visit to Portsmouth in 1816, and his stories, of 

form Bill troubles, "Duke of Wellington, you the wonders he had seen, to the little boy at 

have seen a great deal of the world. Can you his side. 



1831.] JOURNAL 555 

of [engagements]. The wind is west, that is to say contrary, so our 
sailing on the day after to-morrow is highly doubtful. 

October 25. — A gloomy October day, the wind inflexibly constant 
in the west, which is fatal. Sir James Graham proposes to wait upon 
us after breakfast. A trouble occurs about my taking an oath before 
a master-extraordinary in Chancery ; but such cannot easily be found, 
as they reside in chambers in town, and rusticate after business, so 
they are difficult to catch as an eel. At ten my children set off to 
the dockyard, which is a most prodigious effort of machinery, and 
they are promised the sight of an anchor in the act of being forged, 
a most Cyclopean sight. Walter is to call upon the solicitor and ap- 
point him to be with [me] by twelve. 

About the reign of Henry viii. the French took the pile, as it was 

called, of ,' but were beat off. About the end of the American 

war, an individual named John Aitken, or John the Painter, under- 
took to set the dockyard on fire, and in some degree accomplished 
his purpose. He had no accomplice, and to support himself com- 
mitted solitary robberies. Being discovered, he long hung in chains 
near the outward fortifications. Last night a deputation of the Lit- 
erary and Philosophical Society of [Portsmouth] came to present me 
with the honorary freedom of their body, which I accepted with be- 
coming gratitude. There is little credit in gathering the name of a 
disabled invalid. Here I am, going a long and curious tour without 
ability to w^alk a quarter of a mile ; quere, what hope of recovery ? I 
think and think in vain, when attempting to trace the progress of this 
disease, and so gradually has my health declined, that I believe it has 
been acting upon me for ten years, gradually diminishing my strength. 
My mental faculties may perhaps recover ; my bodily strength cannot 
return unless climate has an effect on the human frame which I can- 
not possibly believe or comprehend. The safe resolution is, to try no 
foolish experiments, but make myself as easy as I can, without suffer- 
ing myself to be vexed about what I cannot help. If I sit on the 
deck and look at Vesuvius, it will be all I ought to think of. 

Having mentioned John the Painter, I may add that it was in this 
town of Portsmouth that the Duke of Buckingham was stabbed to 
death by Felton, a fanatic of the same kind with the Incendiary, though 
perpetrator of a more manly crime. This monster-breeding age can 
afford both Feltons and John Aitkens in abundance. Every village 
supplies them, while in fact a deep feeling of the coarsest selfishness 
furnishes the ruling motive, instead of an affectation of public spirit 
— that hackneyed affectation of patriotism, as like the reality as a 
Birmingham halfpenny to a guinea. 

The girls, I regret to see, have got a senseless custom of talking 
politics in all weathers and in all sorts of company. This can do no 
good, and may give much offence. Silence can offend no one, and 

» Compare Froude's History, vol. iv. p. 424. 



556 JOURNAL [Oct. 

there are pleasanter or less irritating subjects to talk of. I gave tliem 
both a hint of this, and bid them both remember they were among 
ordinary strangers. How little young people reflect what they may 
win or lose by a smart reflection imprudently fired off at a venture ! 

Mr. Barrow of the Admiralty came and told us the whole fleet, 
Barham excepted, were ordered to the North Sea to help to bully the 
King of Holland, and that Captain Pigot, whose motions are of more 
importance to us than those of the whole British Navy, sails, as cer- 
tainly as these things can be prophesied, on Thursday, 27th Octo- 
ber. 

October 26. — Here we still are, fixed by the inexorable wind. 
Yesterday we asked a few old friends, Mr. and Mrs. Osborne, and 
two or three others, to tea and talk. I engaged in a new novel, by 
Mr. Smith,' called New Forest. It is written in an old style, calculated 
to meet the popular ideas — somewhat like " Man as he is not " ' and 
that class. The author's opinions seem rather to sit loose upon him 
and to be adopted for the nonce and not very well brought out. His 
idea of a hero is an American philosopher with all the affected virtues 
of a Republican which no man believes in. 

This is very tiresome — not to be able to walk abroad for an in- 
stant, but to be kept in this old house which they call " The Fount- 
ain," a mansion made of wood in imitation of a ship. The timbers 
were well tried last night during the squall. The barometer has sunk 
an inch very suddenly, which seems to argue a change, and probably 
a deliverance from port. Sir Michael Seymour, Mr. Harris, Captain 
Lawrence came to greet us after breakfast ; also Sir James Graham. 
They were all learned on this change of weather which seems to be 
generally expected. I had a good mess of Tory chat with Mr. Harris. 
We hope to see his daughters in the evening. He keeps his courage 
amid the despair of too many of his party. About one o'clock our 
Kofle, as Mungo Park words it, set out, self excluded, to witness the 
fleet sailing from the ramparts. 

October 27. — The weather is more moderate and there is a chance 
of our sailing. We whiled away our time as we could, relieved by sev- 
eral kind visits. AVe realised the sense of hopeless expectation de- 
scribed by Fielding in his Vt^yage to Lisbon, which identical tract 
Captain Hall, who in his eagerness to be kind seems in possession of 
the wishing-cap of Fortunatus, was able to provide for us. To-mor- 
row is spoken of as certainly a day to move. 

October 28. — But the wind is as unfavourable as ever and I take 
a hobbling morning walk upon the rampart, where I am edified by 
a good-natured officer who shows me the place, marked by a buoy, 
where the Royal George went down "with twice four hundred men." ' 
Its hull forms a shoal which is still in existence, a neglect scarcely 

1 Mr. Horace Smith, one of the authors of ' An anonymous novel, published some years 

Rejected Addresses. earlier in 4 vols. 12mo. 

3 Cowper's Monody. 



1831.] JOURNAL 557 

reconcilable witli the splendour of our proceedings where our navy 
is concerned. Saw a battle on the rampart between two sailor boys, 
who fought like game-cocks. Returned to " The Fountain," to a vo- 
luminous breakfast. Captain Pigot calls, with little hope of sailing 
to-day. I made my civil affidavit yesterday to a master-extraordinary 
in Chancery, which I gave to Sophia last night. 

October 29 (The Barham). — The weather is changed and I think 
we shall sail. Captain Forbes comes with offer of the Admiral Sir 
Michael Seymour's barge, but we must pause on our answer. I have 
had a very disturbed night. Captain Pigot's summons is at length 
brought by his own announcement, and the same time the Admiral's 
barge attends for our accommodation and puts us and our baggage 
on board the Barham, a beautiful ship, a 74 cut down to a 50, and 
well deserving all the commendations bestowed on her. The weather 
a calm which is almost equal to a favourable wind, so we glide beau- 
tifully along by the Isle of Wight and the outside of the island. We 
landsfolk feel these queerish sensations, when, without being in the 
least sick, we are not quite well. We dine enormously and take our 
cot at nine o'clock, when we sleep undisturbed till seven. . 

October 30. — Find the Bill of Portland in sight, having run about 
forty miles during the night. About the middle of the day turn sea- 
sick and retire to my berth for the rest of the evening. 

October 31. — A sleepless night and a bilious morning, yet not so 
very uncomfortable as the phrase may imply. The bolts clashed, and 
made me dream of poor Bran. The wind being nearly completely 
contrary, we have by ten o'clock gained Plymouth and of course will 
stand westward for Cape Finisterre ; terrible tossing and much sea- 
sickness, beating our passage against the turn. I may as well say we 
had a parting visit from Lady Graham, who came off in a steamer, 
saluted us in the distance and gave us by signal her "bon voyage." 
On Sunday we had prayers and Service from Mr. Marshall, our Chap- 
lain, a Trinity College youth, who made a very respectable figure. 



NOVEMBER 

November 1. — The night was less dismal than yesterday, and we 
hold our course, though with an unfavourable wind, and make, it is 
said, about forty miles progress. After all, this sort of navigation 
recommends the steamer, which forces its way whether the breeze 
will or no. 

November 2. — Wind as cross as two sticks, with nasty squalls of 
wind and rain. We keep dodging about the Lizard and Land's End 
without ever getting out of sight of these interesting terminations of 
Old England. Keep the deck the whole day though bitter cold. 
Betake myself to my berth at nine, though it is liker to my coffin. 

November 3. — Sea-sickness has pretty much left us, but the nights 
are far from voluptuous, as Lord Stowell says. After breakfast I es- 
tablished myself in the after-cabin to read and write as well as I can, 
whereof this is a bad specimen. 

November 4. — The current unfavourable, and the ship pitching a 
great deal ; yet the vessel on the whole keeps her course, and we get 
on our way with hope of reaching Cape Finisterre when it shall please 
God. 

November 5. — We still creep on this petty pace from day to day 
without being able to make way, but also without losing any. Mean- 
while, Frohlich! we become freed from the nausea and disgust of the 
sea-sickness and are chirruping merrily. Spend the daylight chiefly 
on deck, where the sailors are trained in exercising the great guns on 
a new sort of carriage called, from the inventor, Marshall's, which 
seems ingenious. 

November 6. — No progress to-day ; the ship begins to lay her 
course but makes no great way. Appetite of the passengers excel- 
lent, which we amuse at the expense of the sea stock. Cold beef and 
biscuit. I feel myself very helpless on board, but everybody is ready 
to assist me. 

November 7. — The wind still holds fair, though far from blowing 
steadily, but by fits and variably. No object to look at — 

*' One wide water all around us, 
All above us one ' grey ' sky." ' 

There are neither birds in the air, fish in the sea, nor objects on face 
» See Sailor's Song, Cease, rude Boreas, etc., arUe, p. 539; "The Storm." 



Nov. 1831.] JOURNAL 559 

of the waters. It is odd that though once so great a smoker I now 
never think on a cigar ; so much the better. 

November 8. — As we begin to get southward we feel a milder and 
more pleasing temperature, and the wind becomes decidedly favour- 
able when we have nearly traversed the famous Bay of Biscay. We 
now get into a sort of trade wind blowing from the East. 

November 9. — This morning run seventy miles from twelve at 
night. This is something like going. Till now, bating the rolling 
and pitching, we lay 

"... as idle as a painted ship 
Upon a painted ocean." 

November 10. — Wind changes and is both mild and favourable. 
We pass Cape Ortegal, see a wild cluster of skerries or naked rocks 
called Berlingas rising out of the sea like M'Leod's Maidens off the 
Isle of Skye. 

November 11. — Wind still more moderate and fair, yet it is about 
eleven knots an hour. We pass Oporto and Lisbon in the night. 
See the coast of Portugal : a bare wild country, with here and there 
a church or convent. If it keeps fair this evening we [make] Gibral- 
tar, which would be very desirable. Our sailors have been exercised 
at a species of sword exercise, which recalls many recollections. 

November 12. — The favourable wind gets back to its quarters in 
the south-west, and becomes what the Italians call the Sirocco, abom- 
inated for its debilitating qualities. I cannot say I feel them, but I 
dreamt dreary dreams all night, w^hich are probably to be imputed to 
the Sirocco. After all, it is not an uncomfortable wind to a Caledo- 
nian wild and stern. Ink won't serve. 

November 13. — The wind continues unaccommodating all night, 
and we see nothing, although we promised ourselves to have seen 
Gibraltar, or at least Tangiers, this morning, but we are disappointed 
of both. Tangiers reminded me of my old Antiquarian friend Au- 
riol Hay Drummond, who is Consul there. ^ Certainly if a human 
voice could have made its hail heard through a league or two of con- 
tending wind and wave, it must have been Auriol Drummond's. I re- 
member him at a dinner given by some of his friends when he left 
Edinburgh, where he discharged a noble part " self pulling like Cap- 
tain Crowe *for dear life, for dear life' against the whole boat's 
crew," speaking, that is, against 30 members of a drunken company 
and maintaining the predominance. Mons Meg was at that time his 
idol. He had a sort of avarice of proper names, and, besides half a- 
dozen which were his legitimately, he had a claim to be called Garvadh^ 
which uncouth appellation he claimed on no very good authority to 
be the ancient name of the Hays — a tale. I loved him dearly ; he 

» See ante, p. 166, note. 



560 JOURNAL [Nov. 

had high spirits, a zealous faith, good-humour, and enthusiasm, and it 
grieves me that I must pass within ten miles of him and leave him 
unsaluted ; for mercy-a-ged what a yell of gratitude would there be ! 
I would put up with a good rough gale which would force us into 
Tangiers and keep us there for a week, but the wind is only in gen- 
tle opposition, like a well-drilled spouse. Gibraltar we shall see this 
evening, Tangiers becomes out of the question. Captain says we will 
lie by during the night, sooner than darkness shall devour such an ob- 
ject of curiosity, so we must look sharp for the old rock. 

November 14. — The horizon is this morning full of remembrances. 
Cape St. Vincent, Cape Spartel, Tarifa, Trafalgar — all spirit-stirring 
sounds, are within our ken, and recognised with enthusiasm both by 
the old sailors whose memory can reinvest them with their terrors, 
and by the naval neophytes who hope to emulate the deeds of their 
fathers. Even a non-combatant like myself feels his heart beat fast- 
er and fuller, though it is only with the feeling of the unworthy boast 
of the substance in the fable, nos poma natamus. 

I begin to ask myself, Do I feel any symptoms of getting better 
from the climate ? — which is delicious, — and I cannot reply with the 
least consciousness of certainty ; I cannot in reason expect it should 
be otherwise : the failure of my limbs has been gradual, and it cannot 
be expected that an infirmity which at least a year's bad weather 
gradually brought on should diminish before a few mild and serene 
days, but I think there is some change to the better ; I certainly 
write easier and my spirits are better. The officers compliment me on 
this, and I think justly. The difficulty will be to abstain from work- 
ing hard, but we will try. I wrote to Mr. Cadell to-day, and will 
send my letter ashore to be put into Gibraltar with the officer who 
leaves us at that garrison. In the evening we saw the celebrated for- 
tress, which we had heard of all our lives, and which there is no pos- 
sibility of describing well in words, though the idea I had formed of 
it from prints, panoramas, and so forth, proved not very inaccurate. 
Gibraltar, then, is a peninsula having a tremendous precipice on the 
Spanish side — that is, upon the north, where it is united to the main- 
land by a low slip of land called the neutral ground. The fortifica- 
tions which rise on the rock are innumerable, and support each other 
in a manner accounted a model of modern art ; the northern face of 
the rock itself is hewn into tremendous subterranean batteries called 
the hall of Saint George, and so forth, mounted with guns of a large 
calibre. But I have heard it would be difficult to use them, from the 
effect of the report on the artillerymen. The west side of the fortress 
is not so precipitous as the north, and it is on this it has been usually 
assailed. It bristles with guns and batteries, and has at its northern 
extremity the town of Gibraltar, which seems from the sea a thriving 
place, and from thence declines gradually to Cape Europa, where 
there is a great number of remains of old caverns and towers, formerly 
the habitation or refuge of the Moors. At a distance, and curving 



1831.] JOURNAL 661 

into a bay, lie Algeciras, and the little Spanish town of Saint Roque, 
where the Spanish lines were planted during the siege/ From Europa 
Point the eastern frontier of Gibraltar runs pretty close to the sea, 
and arises in a perpendicular face, and it is called the back of the 
rock. No thought could be entertained of attacking it, although 
every means were used to make the assault as general as possible. 
The efforts sustained by such extraordinary means as the floating 
batteries were entirely directed against the defences on the west side, 
which, if they could have been continued for a few days with the 
same fury with which they commenced, must have worn out the force 
of the garrison. The assault had continued for several hours without 
success on either side, when a private man of the artillery, his eye on 
the floating batteries, suddenly called with ecstasy, " She burns, by 
G — ! ";' and first that vessel and then others were visibly discovered 
to be on fire, and the besiegers' game was decidedly up. 

We stood into the Bay of Gibraltar and approached the harbour 
firing a gun and hoisting a signal for a boat : one accordingly came 
off — a man-of-war's boat — but refused to have any communication 
with us on account of the quarantine, so we can send no letters 

ashore, and after some pourparlers, Mr. L , instead of joining his 

regiment, must remain on board. We learned an unpleasant piece of 
news. There has been a tumult at Bristol and some rioters shot, it is 
said fifty or sixty. I would flatter myself that this is rather good 
news, since it seems to be no part of a formed insurrection, but an 
accidental scuffle in which the mob have had the worst, and which, 
like Tranent, Manchester, and Bonnymoor, have always had the effect 
of quieting the people and alarming men of property.^ The Whigs 
will find it impossible to permit men to be plundered by a few black- 
guards called by them the people, and education and property prob- 
ably will recover an ascendency which they have only lost by faint- 
heartedness. 

We backed out of the Bay by means of a current to the eastward, 
which always runs thence, admiring in our retreat the lighting up the 
windows in the town and the various barracks or country seats visible 
on the rock. Far as we are from home, the general lighting up of 
the windows in the evening reminds us we are still in merry old Eng- 
land, where in reverse of its ancient law of the curfew, almost every 
individual, however humble his station, takes as of right a part of the 
evening for enlarging the scope of his industry or of his little pleas- 
ures. He trims his lamp to finish at leisure some part of his task, 

» Lasting from 21st June, 1779, to 6th Febru- comforts me under my calamity is that the 

ary, 1783. honour of the two kings remains untarnished. " 

' Compare the reflection of the Chevalier — Mahon's History of England, vol. vii. p. 290. 

d'Arcon, the contriver of the floating batter- 3 Nothing like these Bristol riots had oc- 

ies. He remained on board the Talla Piedra curred since those in Birmingham in 1791.— 

till past midnight, and wrote to the French Martineau's History of the Peace, p. 353. The 

Ambassador in the first hours of his anguish: Tranent (East Lothian) and Bonnymoor (Stir- 

"I have burnt the Temple of Ephesus; every- lingshirel conflicts took place in 1797 and 1820; 

thing is gone, and through my fault ! What the Manchester riot in 1826k 
36 



562 JOURNAL [Nov. 

which seems in such circumstances almost voluntary, while his wife 
prepares the little meal which is to be its legitimate reward. But this 
happy privilege of English freemen has ceased. One happiness it is, 
they will soon learn their error. 

November 15. — I had so much to say about Gibraltar that I omit- 
ted all mention of the Strait, and more distant shores of Spain and 
Barbary, which form the extreme of our present horizon ; they are 
highly interesting. A chain of distant mountains sweep round Gib- 
raltar, bold peaked, well defined, and deeply indented ; the most dis- 
tinguishable points occasionally garnished with an old watch-tower to 
afford protection against a corsair. The mountains seemed like those 
of the first formation, liker, in other words, to the Highlands than 
those of the South of Scotland. The chains of hills in Barbary are 
of the same character, but more lofty and much more distant, being, 
I conceive, a part of the celebrated ridge of Atlas. 

Gibraltar is one of the pillars of Hercules, Ceuta, on the Moorish 
side is well known to be the other ; to the westward of a small for- 
tress garrisoned by the Spaniards is the Hill of Apes, the correspond- 
ing pillar to Gibraltar. There is an extravagant tradition that there 
was once a passage under the sea from the one fortress to the other, 
and that an adventurous governor, who puzzled his way to Ceuta and 
back again, left his gold watch as a prize to him who had the courage 
to go to seek it. 

We are soon carried by the joint influence of breeze and current 
to the African side of the straits, and coast nearly along a wild shore 
formed of mountains, like those of Spain, of varied form and outline. 
No churches, no villages, no marks of human hand are seen. The 
chain of hills show a mockery of cultivation, but it is only wild heath 
intermingled with patches of barren sand. I look in vain for cattle 
or flocks of sheep, and Anne as vainly entertains hopes of seeing 
lions and tigers on a walk to the sea-shore. The land of this wild 
country seems to have hardly a name. The Cape which we are 
doubling has one, however — the Cape of the Three Points. That we 
might not be totally disappointed we saw one or two men engaged 
apparently in ploughing, distinguished by their turbans and the long 
pikes which they carried. Dr. Liddell says that on former occasions 
he has seen flocks and shepherds, but the war with France has prob- 
ably laid the country waste. 

November 16. — When I waked about seven found that we had the 
town of Oran twelve or fourteen miles off astern. It is a large place 
on the sea-beach, near the bottom of a bay, built close and packed 
together as Moorish [towns], from Fez to Timbuctoo, usually are. A 
considerable hill runs behind the town, which seems capable of hold- 
ing 10,000 inhabitants. The hill up to its eastern summit is secured 
by three distinct lines of fortification, made probably by the Spanish 
when Oran was in their possession ; latterly it belonged to the State 
of Algiers ; but whether it has yielded to the French or not we have 



1831.] JOURNAL 563 

no means of knowing. A French schooner of eighteen guns seems 
to blockade the harbour. We show our colours, and she displays 
hers, and then resumes her cruise, looking as if she resumed her 
blockade. This would infer that the place is not yet in French 
hands. However, we have in any event no business with Oran, 
whether African or French. Bristol is a more important subject of 
consideration, but I cannot learn there are papers on board. One or 
two other towns we saw on this dreary coast, otherwise nothing but 
a hilly coast covered with shingle and gum cistus. 

November 17. — In the morning we are off Algiers, of which Cap- 
tain Pigot's complaisance afforded a very satisfactory sight. It is 
built on a sloping hill, running down to the sea, and on the water 
side is extremely strong ; a very strong mole or causeway enlarges the 
harbour, by enabling them to include a little rocky island, and mount 
immense batteries, with guns of great number and size. It is a won- 
der, in the opinion of all judges, that Lord Exmouth's fleet was not 
altogether cut to pieces. The place is of little strength to the land ; 
a high turreted wall of the old fashion is its best defence. When 
Charles v. attacked Algiers, he landed in the bay to the east of the 
town, and marched behind it. He afterwards reached what is still 
called the Emperor's fort, a building more highly situated than any 
part of the town, and commanding the wall which surrounds it. The 
Moors did not destroy this. When Bourmont landed with the French, 
unlike Charles v., that general disembarked to the westward of Al- 
giers, and at the mouth of a small river ; he then marched into the 
interior, and, fetching a circuit, presented himself on the northern 
side of the town. Here the Moors had laid a simple stratagem for 
the destruction of the invading army. The natives had conceived 
they would rush at once to the fort of the Emperor, which they 
therefore mined, and expected to destroy a number of the enemy by- 
its explosion. This obvious device of war was easily avoided, and 
General Bourmont, in possession of the heights, from which Algiers 
is commanded, had no difficulty in making himself master of the 
place. The French are said now to hold their conquests with diffi- 
culty, owing to a general commotion among the Moorish chiefs, of 
whom the Bey was the nominal sovereign. To make war on these 
wild tribes would be to incur the disaster of the Emperor Julian ; to 
neglect their aggressions is scarcely possible. 

Algiers has at first an air of diminutiveness inferior to its fame in 
ancient and modern times. It rises up from the shore like a wedge, 
composed of a large mass of close-packed white houses, piled as thick 
on each other as they can stand ; white-terraced roofs, and without 
windows, so the number of its inhabitants must be immense, in com- 
parison to the ground the buildings occupy — not less, perhaps, than 
30,000 men. Even from the distance we view it, the place has a sin- 
gular Oriental look, very dear to the imagination. The country around 
Algiers is [of] the same hilly description with the ground on which 



564 JOURNAL [Nov. 

the town is situated — a bold hilly tract. The shores of the bay are 
studded with villas, and exhibit enclosures : some used for agricult- 
ure, some for gardens, one for a mosque, with a cemetery around it. 
It is said they are extremely fertile ; the first example we have seen 
of the exuberance of the African soil. The villas, we are told, belong 
to the Consular Establishment. We saw our own, who, if at home, 
put no remembrance upon us. Like the Cambridge Professor and 
the elephant, " We were a paltry beast," and he would not see us, 
though we drew within cannon [shotj, and our fifty 36 -pounders 
might have attracted some attention. The Moors showed their old 
cruelty on a late occasion. The crews of two foreign vessels having 
fallen into their hands by shipwreck, they murdered two-thirds of 
them in cold blood. There are reports of a large body of French 
cavalry having shown itself without the town. It is also reported by 
Lieutenant Walker,^ that the Consul hoisted, comme de raison, a Brit- 
ish flag at his country house, so our vanity is safe. 

We leave Algiers and run along the same kind of heathy, cliffy, 
barren reach of hills, terminating in high lines of serrated ridges, and 
scarce showing an atom of cultivation, but where the mouth of a riv- 
er or a sheltering bay has encouraged the Moors to some species of 
fortification. 

November 1 8. — Still we are gliding along the coast of Africa, with 
a steady and unruffled gale ; the weather delicious. Talk of an isl- 
and of wild goats, by name Golita ; this species of deer-park is free 
to every one for shooting upon — belongs probably to the Algerines 
or Tunisians, whom circumstances do not permit to be very scrupu- 
lous in asserting their right of dominion ; but Dr. Liddell has him- 
self been present at a grand chasse of the goats, so the thing is true. 

The wild sinuosities of the land make us each moment look to 
see a body of Arabian cavalry wheel at full gallop out of one of these 
valleys, scour along the beach, and disappear up some other recess of 
the hills. In fact we see a few herds, but a red cow is the most for- 
midable monster we have seen. 

A general day of exercise on board, as well great guns as small 
arms. It was very entertaining to see the men take to their quarters 
with the unanimity of an individual. The marines shot a target to 
pieces, the boarders scoured away to, take their position on the yards 
with cutlass and pistol. The exhibition continued two hours, and was 
loud enough to have alarmed the shores, where the Algerines might, 
if they had thought fit, have imputed the firing to an opportune 
quarrel between the French and British, and have shouted "Allah 
Kerim " — God is merciful ! This was the Dey's remark when he 
heard that Charles x. was dethroned by the Parisians. 

We are near an African Cape called Bugiaroni, where, in the last 
war, the Toulon fleet used to trade for cattle. 



» Afterwards Admiral Sir Baldwin Walker, so long in command of the Turkish Xavy. 



1831.] JOURNAL 565 

November 19. — Wind favourable during night, dies away in the 
morning, and blows in flurries rather contrary. The steamboat pack- 
et, which left Portsmouth at the same time with us, passes us about 
seven o'clock, and will reach a day or two before us. We are now off 
the coast of Tunis : not so high and rocky as that of Algiers, and ap- 
parently much more richly cultivated. A space of considerable length 
along shore, between a conical hill called Mount Baluty and Cape 
Bon, which we passed last night, is occupied by the French as a coral 
fishery. They drop heavy shot by lines on the coral rocks and break 
off fragments which they fish up with nets. The Algerines, seizing 
about 200 Neapolitans thus employed gave rise to the bombardment 
of their town by Lord Exmouth. All this coast is picturesquely cov- 
ered with enclosures and buildings and is now clothed with squally 
weather. One hill has a smoky umbrella displayed over its peak, 
which is very like a volcano — many islets and rocks bearing the Ital- 
ian names of sisters, brothers, dogs, and suchlike epithets. The view 
is very striking, with varying rays of light and of shade mingling and 
changing as the wind rises and falls. About one o'clock we pass the 
situation of ancient Carthage, but saw no ruins, though such are said 

to exist. A good deal of talk about two ancient lakes called ; I 

knew the name, but little more. We passed in the evening two 
rocky islands, or skerries, rising straight out of the water, called Gli 
Fratelli or The Brothers. 

November 20. — A fair wind all night, running at the merry rate 
of nine knots an hour. In the morning we are in sight of the highest 
island, Pantellaria, which the Sicilians use as a state prison, a species 
of Botany Bay. We are about thirty miles from the burning island — 
I mean Graham's — but neither that nor Etna make their terrors visi- 
ble. At noon Graham's Island appears, greatly diminished since last 
accounts. We got out the boats and surveyed this new production 
of the earth with great interest. Think I have got enough to make 
a letter to our Royal Society and friends at Edinburgh.^ Lat. 37° 
10' 31" N., long. 12° 40' 15" E., lying north and south by compass, 
by Mr. Bokely, the. Captain's clerk['s measurements]. Returned on 
board at dinner-time. 

November 21. — Indifferent night. In the morning we are running 
off Gozo, a subordinate island to Malta, intersected with innumerable 
enclosures of dry-stone dykes similar to those used in Selkirkshire, 
and this likeness is increased by the appearance of sundry square 
towers of ancient days. In former times this was believed to be 
Calypso's island, and the cave of the enchantress is still shown. We 
saw the entrance from the deck, as rude a cavern as ever opened out 
of a granite rock. The place of St. Paul's shipwreck is also shown, 
no doubt on similarly respectable authority. 

At last we opened Malta, an island, or rather a city, like no other 

I See long letter to Mr. Skene in Life, vol. x. pp. 126-130. 



666 JOURNAL [Nov. 

in the world. The seaport, formerly the famous Valetta, comes 
down to the sea-shore. On the one side lay the [Knights], on the 
other side lay the Turks, who finally got entire possession of it, while 
the other branch remained in the power of the Christians. Mutual 
cruelties were exercised ; the Turks, seizing on the survivors of the 
knights who had so long defended St. Elmo, cut the Maltese cross 
on the bodies of the slain, and, tying them to planks, let them 
drift with the receding tide into the other branch of the harbour 
still defended by the Christians. The Grand - Master, in resent- 
ment of this cruelty, caused his Turkish prisoners to be decap- 
itated and their heads thrown from mortars into the camp of the 
infidels.^ 

Novemher 22. — To-day we entered Malta harbour, to quarantine, 
which is here very strict. We are condemned by the Board of Quar- 
antine to ten day's imprisonment or sequestration, and go in the Bar- 
ham^ 8 boat to our place of confinement, built by a Grand-Master 
named ManueP for a palace for himself and his retinue. It is spa- 
cious and splendid, but not comfortable ; the rooms connected one 
with another by an arcade, into which they all open, and which forms 
a delightful walk. If I was to live here a sufficient time I think I 
could fit the apartments up so as to be handsome, and even imposing, 
but at present they are only kept as barracks for the infirmary or 
lazaretto. A great number of friends come to see me, who are not 
allowed to approach nearer than a yard. This, as the whole affair is 
a farce, is ridiculous enough. We are guarded by the officers of 
health in a peculiar sort of livery or uniform with yellow neck, who 
stroll up and down with every man that stirs — and so mend the 
matter.^ My friends Captain and Mrs. Dawson, the daughter and 
son-in-law of the late Lord Kinnedder, occupying as military quarters 
one end of the Manuel palace, have chosen to remain, though thereby 
subjected to quarantine, and so become our fellows in captivity. Our 
good friend Captain Pigot, hearing some exaggerated report of our 
being uncomfortably situated, came himself in his barge with the pur- 
pose of reclaiming his passengers rather than we should be subjected 
to the least inconvenience. We returned our cordial thanks, but felt 
we had already troubled him sufficiently. We dine with Captain and 
Mrs. Dawson, sleep in our new quarters, and, notwithstanding mos- 
quito curtains and iron bedsteads, are sorely annoyed by vermin, the 
only real hardship we have to complain of since the tossing on the 
Bay of Biscay, and which nothing could save us from. 

Les Maltois ne se mariaient jamais dans le mois de mai. lis 

1 In the memorable siege of 1565. bour. One of our seamen was brushed from 

' Manuel de Vilhena, Grand - Master 1722- the main yard, fell into the sea and began to 

1736. swim for his life. The Maltese boats bore off 

3 An example of the rigour with which the to avoid giving him assistance, but an English 

Quarantine laws were enforced is given by Sir boat, less knowing, picked up the poor fellow, 

Walter on the 24th:—" We had an instance of and were immediately assigned to the comforts 

the strictness of these regulations from an ac- of the Quarantine, that being the Maltese cus- 

cident which befell us as we entered the har- tomof rewarding humanity. "—Letter to j. g. u 



1831.] JOURNAL 667 

espererent si mal des oiivrages de tout genere commence durant son 
cours qu'ils ne se faisaient pas coiiper d'habits pendant ce mois. 

The same superstition still prevails in Scotland. 

November 23. — This is a splendid town. The sea penetrates it in 
several places with creeks formed into harbours, surrounded by build- 
ings, and these again covered with fortifications. The streets are of 
very unequal height, and as there has been no attempt at lowering 
them, the greatest variety takes place between them ; and the singu- 
larity of the various buildings, leaning on each other in such a bold, 
picturesque, and uncommon manner, suggests to me ideas for finish- 
ing Abbotsford by a screen on the west side of the old barn and with 
a fanciful wall decorated with towers, to enclose the bleaching green 
— watch-towers such as these, of which I can get drawings while I am 
here. Employed the forenoon in writing to Lockhart. I am a little 
at a loss what account to give of myself. Better I am decidely in 
spirit, but rather hampered by my companions, who are neither 
desirous to follow my amusements, nor anxious that I should adopt 
theirs. I am getting on with this Siege of Malta very well. I think if 
I continue, it will be ready in a very short time, and I will get the 
opinion of others, and if my charm hold I will be able to get home 
through Italy — and take up my own trade again. 

November 24. — We took the quarantine boat and visited the outer 
harbour or great port, in which the ships repose when free from their 
captivity. The British ships of war are there, — a formidable spec- 
tacle, as they all carry guns of great weight. If they go up the Le- 
vant as reported, they are a formidable weight in the bucket. I was 
sensible while looking at them of the truth of Cooper's description of 
the beauty of their build, their tapering rigging and masts, and how 
magnificent it looks as 

"Hulking and vast the gallant warship rides!" 

We had some pride in looking at the Barham^ once in a particular 
manner our own abode. Captain Pigot and some of his officers dined 
with us at our house of captivity. By a special grace our abode here 
is to be shortened one day, so we leave on Monday first, which is an 
indulgence. To-day we again visit Dragut's Point. The guardians 
who attend to take care that we quarantiners do not kill the people 
whom we meet, tell some stories of this famous corsair, but I scarce 
can follow their Arabic. I must learn it, though, for the death of 
Dragut* would be a fine subject for a poem, but in the meantime I 
will proceed with my Knights. 

[November 25-30.] ' — By permission of the quarantine board we 
were set at liberty, and lost no time in quitting the dreary fort of Don 

1 High Admiral ol the Turkish fleet before 2 xhe dates a^e not to he absolutely depend- 

Malta, and slain there in 1565. See Dragut the ed upon during the Malta visit, as they appear 
Corsair, in. I^ockhart's Spanish Ballads. to have been added subsequently by Sir Walter. 



568 JOURNAL [Nov. 

Manuel, with all its mosquitoes and its thousands of lizards which 
[stand] shaking their heads at you like their brother in the new Ara- 
bian tale of Daft Jock. My son and daughter are already much tired 
of the imprisonment. I myself cared less about it, but it is unpleasant 
to be thought so very unclean and capable of poisoning a whole city. 
We took our guardians' boat and again made a round of the harbour ; 
were met by Mrs. Bathurst's^ carriage, and carried to my very excel- 
lent apartment at Beverley's Hotel. In passing I saw something of 
the city, and very comical it was ; but more of that hereafter. At or 
about four o'clock we went to our old habitation the Barham^ having 
promised again to dine in the Ward room, where we had a most 
handsome dinner, and were dismissed at half -past six, after having 
the pleasure to receive and give a couple hours of satisfaction. I 
took the boat from the chair, and was a little afraid of the activity 
of my assistants, but it all went off capitally ; went to Beverley's and 
bed in quiet. 

At two o'clock Mrs. Col. Bathurst transported me to see the Met- 
ropolitan Church of St. John, by far the most magnificent place I 
ever saw in my life ; its huge and ample vaults are of the Gothic or- 
der. The floor is of marble, each stone containing the inscription of 
some ancient knight adorned with a patent of mortality and an in- 
scription recording his name and family. For instance, one knight I 
believe had died in the infidels' prison ; to mark his fate, one stone 
amid the many- coloured pavement represents a door composed of 
grates (iron grates I mean), displaying behind them an interior which 
a skeleton is in vain attempting to escape from by bursting the bars. 
If you conceive he has pined in his fetters there for centuries till 
dried in the ghastly image of death himself, it is a fearful imagina- 
tion. The roof which bends over this scene of death is splendidly 
adorned with carving and gilding, while the varied colours and tinct- 
ures both above and beneath, free from the tinselly effect which 
might have been apprehended, [acquire a] solemnity in the dim re- 
ligious light, which they probably owe to the lapse of time. Besides 
the main aisle, which occupies the centre, there is added a chapter- 
house in which the knights were wont to hold their meetings. At 
the upper end of this chapter-house is the fine Martyrdom of St. John 
the Baptist, by Caravaggio, though this has been disputed. On the 
left hand of the body of the church lie a series of subordinate aisles 
or chapels, built by the devotion of the different languages,' and 
where some of the worthies inhabit the vaults beneath. The other 
side of the church is occupied in the same manner ; one chapel in 
which the Communion was imparted is splendidly adorned by a row 
of silver pillars, which divided the worshippers from the priest. Im- 

1 Wife of the Lieut. -Governor, Colonel Sey- of Jerusalem consisted of eight "Lodges" or 
mour Bathurst. "Languages," viz. : France, Auvergne, Prov- 

ence, Spain, Portugal, Germany, and Anglo- 
3 In 1790 the Order of the Knights of St. John Bavaria.— Hoare's Tour, vol. i. p. 28, 



1831.] JOURNAL 569 

mense riclies had been taken from this chapel of the Holy Sacrament 
by the French ; a golden lamp of great size, and ornaments to the 
value of 50,000 crowns are mentioned in particular ; the rich railing 
had not escaped the soldiers' rapacity had it not been painted to re- 
semble wood. I must visit this magnificent church another time. 
To-day I have done it at the imminent risk of a bad fall. We drove 
out to see a Maltese village, highly ornamented in the usual taste. 
Mrs. Bathurst was so good as to take me in her carriage. We dined 
with Colonel Bathurst. 

November 26. — I visited my old and much respected friend, Mr. 
John Hookham Frere,^ and was much gratified to see him the same 
man I had always known him, — perhaps a little indolent ; but that 's 
not much. A good Tory as ever, when the love of many is waxed 
cold. At night a grand ball in honour of your humble servant — 
about four hundred gentlemen and ladies. The former mostly Brit- 
ish officers of army, navy, and civil service. Of the ladies, the isl- 
and furnished a fair proportion — I mean viewed in either way. I 
was introduced to a mad Italian improvisatore, who was with difficul- 
ty prevented from reciting a poem in praise of the King, and impos- 
ing a crown upon my head, nolens volens. Some of the oflBcers, easily 
conceiving how disagreeable this must have been to a quiet man, got 
me out of the scrape, and I got home about midnight ; but remain 
unpoetised and unspeeched. 

N'ovemher 28. — I have made some minutes, some observations, 
and could do something at my Siege ; but I do not find my health 
gaining ground. I visited Frere at Sant' Antonio ; a beautiful place 
with a splendid garden, which Mr. Frere will never tire of, unless some 
of his family come to carry him home by force. 

November 29. — Lady Hotham was kind enough to take me a drive, 
and we dined with them — a very pleasant party. I picked up some 
anecdotes of the latter siege. 

Make another pilgrimage, escorted by Captain Pigot and several 
of his officers. We took a more accurate view of this splendid struct- 
ure [Church of St. John]. I went down into the vaults and made a 
visiting acquaintance with La Valette,'* whom, greatly to my joy, I 
found most splendidly provided with a superb sepulchre of bronze, 
on which he reclines in the full armour of a Knight of Chivalrie. 

1 John Hookham Frere, the disciple of Pitt, For Scott's high opinion of Frere, as far back 

and bosom friend of Canning, made Malta his as 1804, see Life^ vol. ii. p. 207 and note, 
home from 1820 till 1846 ; he died there on Jan- 
uary 7th. He was in deep affliction at the time 

of Scott's arrival, having lost his wife a few 2 Grandmaster of the Knights of St. John of 

months before, but he welcomed his old friend Jerusalem, and defender of Malta against Soly- 

with a melancholy pleasure. man in 1565. 



DECEMBKR 

December 1. — There are two good libraries, on a different plan 
and for different purposes — a modern subscription library that lends 
its own books, and an ancient foreign library which belonged to the 
Knights, but does not lend books. Its value is considerable, but the 
funds unfortunately are shamefully small ; I may do this last some 
good. I have got in a present from Frere the prints of the Siege of 
Malta, very difficult to understand, and on loan from Mr. Murray, 
Agent of the Navy Office, the original of Boiardo, to be returned 
through Mr. Murray, Albemarle Street. Mr. Murray is very good- 
natured about it. 

December 2. — My chief occupation has been driving with Frere. 
Dr. Liddell declines a handsome fee. I will want to send some 
oranges to the children. I am to go with Col. Bathurst to-day as 
far as to wait on the bishop. My old friend Sir John Stoddart's 
daughter is to be married to a Captain Atkinson. Rode with Frere. 
Much recitation. 

December 6. — Captain Pigot inclines to take me on with him to 
Naples, after which he goes to Tunis on Government service. This 
is an offer not to be despised, though at the expense of protracting 
the news from Scotland, which I engage to provide for in case of the 
worst, by offering Mr. Cadell a new romance, to be called The Siege of 
Malta, which if times be as they were when I came off, should be 
thankful[ly received] at a round sum, paying back not only what is 
overdrawn, but supplying finances during the winter. 

December 10, [Naples]. — I ought to say that before leaving Malta 
I went to wait on the Archbishop : a fine aid gentleman, very hand- 
some, and one of the priests who commanded the Maltese in their in- 
surrection against the French. I took the freedom to hint that as he 
had possessed a journal of this blockade, it was but due to his 
country and himself to give it to the public, and offered my assist- 
ance. He listened to my suggestion, and seemed pleased with tlie 
proposal, which I repeated more than once, and apparently with suc- 
cess. Next day the Bishop returned my visit in full state, attended 
by his clergy, and superbly dressed in costume, the pearfs being very 
fine. (The name of this fine old dignitary of the Romish Church is 
Don Francis Caruana, Bishop of Malta.) 

The last night we were at Malta we experienced a rude shock 
of an earthquake, which alarmed me, though I did not know what it 
was. It was said to foretell that the ocean, which had given birth 



Dec. 1831.] JOURNAL 571 

to Graham's Island, had, like Pelops, devoured its own offspring, 
and we are told it is not now visible, and will be, perhaps, hid from 
those who risk the main ; but as we did not come near its latitude 
we cannot say from our own knowledge that the news is true. I 
found my old friend Frere as fond as ever of old ballads. He took 
me out almost every day, and favoured me with recitations of the Cid 
and the continuation of Whistlecraft. He also acquainted me that 
he had made up to Mr. Coleridge the pension of £200 from the 
Board of Literature^ out of his own fortune. 

December 13, [Najjles]. — We left Malta on this day, and after a 
most picturesque voyage between the coast of Sicily and Malta ar- 
rived here on the l7th, where we were detained for quarantine, whence 
we were not dismissed till the day before Christmas. I saw Charles, 
to my great joy, and agreed to dine with his master. Right Hon. Mr. 
Hill,'* resolving it should be my first and last engagement at Naples. 
Next morning much struck with the beauty of the Bay of Naples. 
It is insisted that my arrival has been a signal for the greatest erup- 
tion from Vesuvius which that mountain has favoured us with for 
many a day. I can only say, as the Frenchman said of the comet 
supposed to foretell his own death, "^y^, messieurs, la comete me fait 
trop d'honneur.'' Of letters I can hear nothing. There are many 
English here, of most of whom I have some knowledge. 

December 25, [Bay of Naples\ — We are once more fairly put into 
quarantine. Captain Pigot does not, I think, quite understand the 
freedom his flag is treated with, and could he find law for so doing 
would try his long thirty-six pounders on the town of Naples and its 
castles ; not to mention a sloop of ten guns which has ostentatiously 
entered the Bay to assist them. Lord knows we would make ducks 
and drakes of the whole party with the Barham's terrible battery ! 

There is a new year like to begin and no news from Britain. By 
and by I will be in the condition of those who are sick and in prison, 
and entitled to visits and consolation on principles of Christianity. 

December 26, [Strada Nuova\ — Went ashore ; admitted to pra- 
tique, and were received here.' Walter has some money left, which 
we must use or try a begging-box, for I see no other resource, smce 
they seem to have abandoned me so. Go ashore each day to sight- 
seeing. Have the pleasure to meet Mr.* and Mrs. Laing-Meason of 
Lindertis, and have their advice and assistance and company in our 

1 By "Board of Literature" Scott doubtless grant of £200 from the Treasury, which he de- 
means the Royal Society of Literature, insti- clined. 

tuted in 1824 under the patronage of George The pension from the Society or the Privy 

IV.; see anie, p. 256. Besides the members Purse of George iv., which Mr. Hookham Frere 

who paid a subscription there were ten as- told Sir Walter he had made up to Coleridge, 

sociates, of whom Coleridge was one, who was one hundred guineas, 

each received an annuity of a hundred guineas 2 Afterwards Lord Berwick, 

from the King's bounty. When William iv. , mi ^ ,, ,. v,i- v j ^1. 

succeeded his brother in 1830, he declined to J The travellers established themselves m 

continue these annuities. Representations were the Palazzo Caramanico as soon as they were 

made to the Government, and the then Prime released from quarantme. 

Minister, Earl Grey, oflfered Coleridge a private * A brother of Malcolm Laing, the historian. 



572 JOURNAL [Dec. 1831. 

wanderings almost every day. Mr. Meason has made some valuable 
remarks on the lava where the villas of the middle ages are founded : 
the lava shows at least upon the ancient maritime villas of the Romans ; 
so the boot of the moderns galls the kibe of the age preceding them ; 
the reason seems to be the very great durability with which the 
Romans finished their domestic architecture of maritime arches, by 
which they admitted the sea into their lower houses.' 

We were run away with, into the grotto very nearly, but luckily 
stopped before we entered, and so saved our lives. We have seen 
the Strada Nuova — a new access of extreme beauty which the Italians 
owe to Murat. 

The Bay of Naples is one of the finest things I ever saw. Vesu- 
vius controls it on the opposite side of the town. 

I never go out in the evening, but take airings in the day-time 
almost daily. The day after Christmas I went to see some old parts 
of the city, amongst the rest a tower called Torre del Carmine, which 
figured during the Duke of Guise's adventure, and the gallery of as 
old a church, where Masaniello was shot at the conclusion of his 
career.' I marked down the epitaph of a former Empress,^ which is 
striking and affecting. It would furnish matter for my Tour if I 
wanted it. 

" Naples, thou' rt a gallant city, 
But thou hast been dearly bought'* — * 

So is King Alphonso made to sum up the praises of this princely 
town, with the losses which he had sustained in making himself 
master of it. I looked on it with something of the same feelings, 
and I may adopt the same train of thought when I recall Lady North- 
ampton, Lady Abercorn, and other friends much beloved who have 
met their death in or near this city. 

1 An account is given by Sir William Gell oi ^ gee Appendix iv. : "A former Empress." 
an excursion by sea to the ruins of such a Ro- Sir Waiter no doubt means the mother of Con- 
man villa on the promontory of Posilipo, to radin of Suabia, or, as the Italians call him, 
which he had taken Sir Walter in a boat on the Corradino, —erroneously called "Empress," 
26th of January.— See Zi/e, vol. x. pp. 157-8. though her husband had pretensions to the 

- For a picturesque sketch of Naples during Imperial dignity, disputed and abortive. For 
the insurrection of 164T see Sir Walter's article the whole affecting story see Histoire de la Con- 
on Masaniello and the Puke of Guise. — Foreign quete de Naples, St. Priest, vol. iii. pp. 130-185, 
Quarterly Review, vol. iv. pp. 355-403. especially pp. 162-3. 

* A variation of the lines on Alphonso's capture of the city in 1442:— 

"And then he looked on Naples, that great city of the sea, 
' O city,' saith the Kins:, ' how great hath heen thy coat, 
For thee I twenty years— my fairest years— have lost.' " 

— Lockhart's Spanish Ballads, "The King of Arragon." 



1832.— JANUARY 

January 5. — Went by invitation to wait upon a priest, who al- 
most rivals my fighting bishop of Malta. He is the old Bishop of 
Tarentum/ and, notwithstanding his age, eighty and upwards, is still 
a most interesting man. A face formed to express an interest in 
whatever passes ; caressing manners, and a total absence of that rigid 
stiffness which hardens the heart of the old and converts them into a 
sort of petrifaction. Apparently his foible was a fondness for cats ; 
one of them, a superb brindled Persian cat, is a great beauty, and 
seems a particular favourite. I think we would have got on well to- 
gether if he could have spoken English, or I French or Latin ; but 
helas ! I once saw at Lord Yarmouth's house a Persian cat, but not 
quite so fine as that of the Bishop. He gave me a Latin devotional 
poem and an engraving of himself, and I came home about two 
o'clock. 

January 6 to 12. — We reach the 12th January, amusing ourselves 
as we can, generally seeing company and taking airings in the fore- 
noon in this fine country. Sir William Gell, a very pleasant man, 
one of my chief cicerones. Lord Hertford comes to Naples. I am 
glad to keep up an old acquaintance made in the days of George iv. 
He has got a breed from Maida, of which I gave him a puppy. There 
was a great crowd at the Palazzo, which all persons attended, being 
the King's birthday. The apartments are magnificent, and the vari- 
ous kinds of persons who came to pay court were splendid. I went 
with the boys as Brigadier-General of the Archers' Guard, wore a 
very decent green uniform, laced at the cuffs, and pantaloons, and 
looked as well as sixty could make it out when sworded and feathered 
comme il faut. I passed well enough. Very much afraid of a fall 
on the slippery floor, but escaped that disgrace. The ceremony was 
very long. I was introduced to many distinguished persons, and, 
but for the want of language, got on well enough. The King spoke 
to me about five minutes, of which I hardly understood five words. I 
answered him in a speech of the same length, and I'll be bound 
equally unintelligible. We made the general key-tone of the ha- 
rangue la helle langue et le beau dels of sa majeste. Very fine dresses, 
very many diamonds. . . . 

1 Sir William Gell styles him "Archbishop," the Bag of Gold, and is immortalised by the 

and adds that at this time he was in his nine- pencil of Landseer seated at table en famille 

tieth year. Can this prelate be Rogers's " Good with three of his velvet favourites ? See Italy, 

Old Cardinal," who told the pleasant tale of fcp. 8vo, 1838, p. 302. 



574 JOURNAL [Jan. 

A pretty Spanish ambassadress, Countess da Costa, and her hus- 
band. Saw the Countess de Lebzeltern, who has made our acquaint- 
ance, and seems to be very clever. I will endeavour to see her again. 
Introduced to another Russian Countess of the diplomacy. Got from 
Court about two o'clock. I should have mentioned that I had a letter 
from Skene^ and one from Cadell, dated as far back as 2d December, 
a monstrous time ago, [which] yet puts a period to my anxiety. I 
have written to Cadell for particulars and supplies, and, besides, have 
written a great many pages of the Siege of Malta, which I think will 
succeed. 

[January 16-23]. — I think £200 a month, or thereby, will do very 
well, and it is no great advance. 

Another piece of intelligence was certainly to be expected, but 
now it has come afflicts us much. Poor Johnny Lockhart ! The 
boy is gone whom we have made so much of. I could not have 
borne it better than I now do, and I might have borne it much 



I went one evening to the Opera to see that amusement in its 
birthplace, which is now so widely received over Europe. The Opera 
House is superb, but can seldom be quite full. On this night, how- 
ever, it was ; the guards, citizens, and all persons dependent on the 
Court, or having anything to win or lose by it, are expected to take 
places liberally, and applaud with spirit. The King bowed much on 
entrance, and was received in a popular manner, which he has no 
doubt deserved, having relaxed many of his father's violent persecu- 
tions against the Liberals, made in some degree an amnesty, and em- 
ployed many of this character. He has made efforts to lessen his 
expenses ; but then he deals in military affairs, and that swallows up 
his savings, and Heaven only knows whether he will bring [Neapoli- 
tans] to fight, which the Martinet system alone will never do. His 
health is undermined by epileptic fits, which, with his great corpu- 
lence, make men throw their thoughts on his brother Prince Charles. 
It is a pity. The King is only two-and-twenty years old. 

The Opera bustled off without any remarkable music, and, so far 
as I understand the language, no poetry ; and except the coup cfoeil, 
which was magnificent, it was poor work. It was on the subject of 
Constantine and Crispus — marvellous good matter, I assure you. I 
came home at half-past nine, without waiting the ballet, but I was 
dog-sick of the whole of it. Went to the Studij to-day. I had no 

1 This is the last notice in the Journal by long distance to see me, he has been sitting 

Sir Walter of his dear friend. James Skene of with me at the fireside talking over our happy 

Rubislaw died at Frewen Hall, Oxford, in 1864, recollections of the past. ..." 

in his ninetieth year. His faculties remained Two or three days later he followed his well 

unimpaired throughout his serene and beauti- loved friend into the unseen world— gently and 

ful old age, until the end was very near— then, calmly like a child falling asleep he passed 

one evening his daughter found him with a away in perfect peace, 
look of inexpressible delight on his face, when 

he said to her ' ' I have had such a great pleas- = John Hugh Lockhart died December 15, 

ure! Scott has been here— he came from a 1831. 



1832.] JOURNAL 575 

answer to my memorial to the Minister of the Interior, which it seems 
is necessary to make any copies from the old romances. I find it is 

an affair of State, and Monsieur can only hope it will be granted 

in two or three days; — to a man that may leave Naples to-morrow! 
He offers me a loan of what books I need, Annals included, but this 
is also a delay of two or three days. I think really the Italian men 
of letters do not know the use of time made by those of other places, 
but I must have patience. In the course of my return home I called, 
by advice of my valet de place, at a bookseller's, where he said all the 
great messieurs went for books. It had very little the air of a place 
of such resort, being kept in a garret above a coach-house. Here 
some twenty or thirty odd volumes were produced by an old woman, 
but nothing that was mercantile, so I left them for Lorenzo's learned 
friends. And yet I was sorry too, for the lady who showed them to 
me was very [civil], and, understanding that I was the famous Chev- 
alier, carried her kindness as far as I could desire. The Italians un- 
derstand nothing of being in a hurry, but perhaps it is their way.* 

January 24. — The King grants the favour asked. To be perfect 
I should have the books [out] of the room, but this seems to [hurt ?] 
Monsieur Delicteriis as he, kind and civil as he is, would hardly [al- 
low] me to take my labours out of the Studij, where there are hosts 
of idlers and echoes and askers and no understanders of askers. I 
progress, however, as the Americans say. I have found that Sir Wil- 
liam Gell's amanuensis is at present disengaged, and that he is quite 
the man for copying the romances, which is a plain black letter of 
1377, at the cheap and easy rate of 3 quattrons a day. I am ashamed 
at the lowness of the remuneration, but it will dine him capitally, 
with a share of a bottle of wine, or, by 'r lady, a whole one if he likes 
it; and thrice the sum would hardly do that in England. But we 
dawdle, and that there is no avoiding. I have found another object 
in the Studij — the language of Naples. 

Jany. 2 [5 ?]. — One work in this dialect, for such it is, was de- 
scribed to me as a history of ancient Neapolitan legends — quite in 
my way; and it proves to be a dumpy fat 12mo edition of Mother 
Goose's Tales,^ with my old friends Puss in Boots, Bluebeard, and al- 
most the whole stock of this very collection. If this be the original 
of this charming book, it is very curious, for it shows the right of 
Naples to the authorship, but there are French editions very early 
also ; — for there are two — whether French or Italian, I am uncertain 
— of different dates, both having claims to the original edition, each 
omitting some tales which the other has. 

To what common original we are to refer them the Lord knows. 

1 Sir W. Gell relates that an old English hotsford, nnder the title, Old English Romances, 

manuBcript of the Romance of Sir Bevis of transcribed from mss. in the Royal Library at 

Hampton, existing in Naples, had attracted Naples, by Sticchini, 2 vols. sm. 8vo. 
Scott's attention, and he resolved to make a 

copy of it. 2 See Appendix v. for Mr. Andrew Lang's 

The transcript is now in the Library at Ab- letter on this subject. 



576 JOURNAL JJan. 

I will look into [this] very closely, and if this same copiator is worth 
his ears he can help me. My friend Mr. D. will aid me, but I doubt 
he hardly likes my familiarity with the department of letters in which 
he has such an extensive and valuable charge. Yet he is very kind 
and civil, and promises me the loan of a Neapolitan vocabulary, which 
will set me up for the attack upon Mother Goose. Spirit of Tom 
Thumb assist me ! I could, I think, make a neat thing of this, ob- 
noxious to ridicule perhaps ; — what then ! The author of Ma Soeur 
Anne was a clever man, and his tale will remain popular in spite of 
all gibes and flouts soever. So Vamos Caracci! If it was not for 
the trifling and dawdling peculiar to this country, I should have time 
enough, but their trifling with time is the devil. I will try to engage 
Mr. Gell in two researches in his way and more in mine, namely, the 
Andrea Ferrara and the Bonnet piece.* Mr. Keppel Craven says An- 
drea de Ferraras " are frequent in Italy. Plenty to do if we had alert 
assistance, but Gell and Laing Meason have both their own matters to 
puzzle out, and why should they mind my affairs? The weather is 
very cold, and I am the reverse of the idiot boy — 

"For as my body's growing worse, 
My mind is growing better." ' 

Of this I am distinctly sensible, and thank God that the mist attend- 
ing this whoreson apoplexy is wearing off. 

I went to the Studij and copied Bevis of Hampton, about two 
pages, for a pattern. From thence to Sir William Gell, and made an 
appointment at the Studij with his writer to-morrow at ten, when, I 
trust, I shall find Delicteriis there, but the gentleman with the class- 
ical name is rather kind and friendly in his neighbour's behalf.* 

January 26. — This day arrived (for the first time indeed) answer 
to last post end of December, an epistle from Cadell full of good tid- 
ings.^ Castle Dangerous and Sir Robert of Paris, neither of whom I 
deemed seaworthy, have performed two voyages — that is, each sold 
about 3400, and the same of the current year. It proves what I have 
thought almost impossible, that I might write myself [out], but as yet 
my spell holds fast. 

I have besides two or three good things on which I may advance 
with spirit, and with palmy hopes on the part of Cadell and myself. 
He thinks he will soon cry victoria on the bet about his hat. He 

1 The forty - shilling gold piece coined by * Sir W. Gell records that on the morning he 
James v. of Scotland. received the good news he called upon him and 

2 Sword-blades of peculiar excellence bear- said he felt quite relieved by his letters, and 
ing the name of this maker have been known added, "I could never have slept straight in 
in Scotland since the reign of James iv. my coffin till I had satisfied every claim against 

3 Altered from Wordsworth. me; and now," turning to a favourite dog that 
* 'IhQ e&\ior of ReliquoR Antiques (2 vols. 9,vo^ was with them in the carriage he said, "My 

London, 1843), writing ten years after this visit, poor boy, I shall have my house and my estate 

says, that "The Chevalier de Licteriis [Chief round it free, and I may keep my dogs as big 

Librarian in the Royal Library] showed him and as many as I choose without fear of re- 

the manuscript, and well remembered his proach." — ii/e, vol. x. p. 160. 
drawing Sir Walter's attention to it in 1832." 



1832.] JOURNAL 511 

was to get a new one when I had paid off all my debts. I can hardly, 
now that I am assured all is well again, form an idea to myself that I 
could think it was otherwise. 

And yet I think it is the public that are mad for passing those 
two volumes ; but I will not be the first to cry them down in the 
market, for I have others in hand, which, judged with equal favour, 
will make fortunes of themselves. Let me see what I have on the 
stocks — 

Castle Dangerous (supposed future Editions) £1000 

Kobert of Paris, " " " 1000 

Lady Louisa Stuart, " " " 500 

Knights of Malta, " " " 2500 

TrotcosianaB Reliquiae, " " " 2500 

I have returned to my old hopes, and think of giving Milne an offer for his 
estate.* 

Letters or Tour of Paul m 3 vols 3000 

Reprint of Bevis of Hampton for Roxburghe Club 

Essay on the Neapolitan dialect 

1 Viz, Faldonside, an estate adjacent to Ab- some land between me and the lake which lies 

botsford which Scott had long wished to pos- mighty convenient, but I am mighty deter- 

sess. As far back as November, 1817, he wrote mined to give nothing more than the value, so 

a friend : "My neighbour, Nicol Milne, is mighty that it is likely to end like the old proverb, Ex 

desirous I should buy, at a mighty high rate, Nichilo Nichiljit.^' 

37 



FEBRUARY 

February 10. — We went to Pompeii to-day: a large party, all dis- 
posed to enjoy the sight in this fine weather. We had Sir Frederick 
and Lady Adam, Sir William Gell, the coryphaeus of our party, who 
played his part very well. Miss de la Ferronays,^ daughter of Mon- 
sieur le Due de la Ferronays, the head, I believe, of the constitutional 
Royalists, very popular in France, and likely to be called back to the 
ministry, with two or three other ladies, particularly Mrs. Ashley, 
born Miss Baillie,'' very pretty indeed, and lives in the same house. 
The Countess de la Ferronays has a great deal of talent both musical 
and dramatic, 

February 16. — Sir William Gell called and took me out to-night 
to a bookseller whose stock was worth looking over. 

We saw, among the old buildings of the city, an ancient palace 
called the Yicaria, which is changed into a prison. Then a new 
palace was honoured with royal residence instead of the old dungeon. 
I saw also a fine arch called the Capuan gate, formerly one of the city 
towers, and a very pretty one. We advanced to see the ruins of a 
palace said to be a habitation of Queen Joan, and where she put her 
lovers to death chiefly by potions, thence into a well, smothering 
them, etc., and other little tenderly trifling matters of gallantry. 

1 Probably Pauline ; married to Hon. Augus- ^ Daughter of Colonftl Hugh Duncan Baillie, 

tus Craven, and author of Becit d'une Sceur. of Tarradale and Redcastle. 



MARCH 

March . — Embarked on an excursion to Paestum, with Sir Will- 
iam Gell and Mr. Laing-Meason, in order to see the fine ruins. We 
went out by Pompeii, which we had visited before, and which fully 
maintains its character as one of the most striking pieces of antiquity, 
where the furniture treasure and household are preserved in the exca- 
vated houses, just as found by the labourers appointed by Govern- 
ment. The inside of the apartments is adorned with curious paint- 
ings, if I may call them such, in mosaic. A meeting between Darius 
and Alexander is remarkably fine.^ A street, called the street of 
Tombs, reaches a considerable way out of the city, having been flanked 
by tombs on each side as the law directed. The entrance into the 
town affords an interesting picture of the private life of the Romans. 
We came next to the vestiges of Herculaneum, which is destroyed 
like Pompeii but by the lava or molten stone, which cannot be re- 
moved, whereas the tufa or volcanic ashes can be with ease removed 
from Pompeii, which it has filled up lightly. After having refreshed 
in a cottage in the desolate town, we proceed on our journey east- 
ward, flanked by one set of heights stretching from Vesuvius, and 
forming a prolongation of that famous mountain. Another chain of 
mountains seems to intersect our course in an opposite direction and 
descends upon the town of Castellamare. Different from the range 
of heights which is prolonged from Vesuvius, this second, which runs 
to Castellamare, is entirely composed of granite, and, as is always the 
case with mountains of this formation, betrays no trace of volcanic 
agency. Its range was indeed broken and split up into specimens 
of rocks of most romantic appearance and great variety, displaying 
granite rock as the principal part of its composition. The country on 
which these hills border is remarkable for its powers of vegetation, 
and produces vast groves of vine, elm, chestnut, and similar trees, 
which grow when stuck in by cuttings. The vines produce Lacryma 
Christi in great quantities — not a bad wine, though the stranger re- 
quires to be used to it. The sea-shore of the Bay of Naples forms 
the boundary on the right of the country through which our journey 
lies, and we continue to approach to the granite chain of eminences 
which stretch before us, as if to bar our passage. 



I Of this visit to Pompeii Sir W. Gell says— ined, however, with more interest the "splen- 

" Sir Walter viewed the whole with a poet's did mosaic representing a combat of the Greeks 

eye, not that of an antiquarian, exclaiming and the Persians."— £i/e, vol. x. p. 169. 
frequently, ' The city of the Dead ! '" He exam- 



680 JOURNAL [March 

As we advanced to meet the great barrier of cliffs, a feature be- 
comes opposed to us of a very pronounced character, which seems 
qualified to interrupt our progress. A road leading straight across 
the branch of hills is carried up the steepest part of the mountain, 
ascending by a succession of zig-zags, which the French laid by scale 
straight up the hill. The tower is situated upon an artificial emi- 
nence, worked to a point and placed in a defensible position between 
two hills about the same height, the access to which the defenders of 
the pass could effectually prohibit. 

Sir AVilliam Gell, whose knowledge of the antiquities of this 
country is extremely remarkable, acquainted us with the history. 

In the middle ages the pasturages on the slope of these hills, es- 
pecially on the other side, belonged to the rich republic of Amalfi, 
who built this tower as an exploratory gazeeboo from which they 
could watch the motions of the Saracens who were wont to annoy 
them with plundering excursions; but after this fastness [was built] 
the people of Amalfi usually defeated and chastised them. The ride 
over the opposite side of the mountain was described as so uncom- 
monly pleasant as made me long to ride it with assistance of a pony. 
That, however, was impossible. We arrived at a country house, near 
a large town situated in a ravine or hollow, which was called La Cava 
from some concavities which is exhibited. 

We were received by Miss Whyte, an English lady who has set- 
tled at La Cava, and she afforded us the warmest hospitality that is 
consistent with a sadly cold chilling house. They may say what they 
like of the fine climate of Naples — unquestionably they cannot say too 
much in its favour, but yet when a day or two of cold weather does 
come, the inhabitants are without the means of parrying the tem- 
porary inclemency, which even a Scotsman would scorn to submit to. 
However, warm or cold, to bed we went, and rising next morning at 
seven we left La Cava, and, making something like a sharp turn back- 
wards, but keeping nearer to the Gulf of Salerno than in yesterday's 
journey, and nearer to its shore. We had a good road towards Paes- 
tum, and in defiance of a cold drizzling day we went on at a round 
pace. The country through which we travelled was wooded and 
stocked with wild animals towards the fall of the hills, and we saw 
at a nearer distance a large swampy plain, pastured by a singularly 
bizarre but fierce-looking buffalo, though it might maintain a much 
preferable stock. This palace of Barranco was anciently kept up for 
the King's sport, but any young man having a certain degree of in- 
terest is allowed to share in the chase, which it is no longer an object 
to preserve. The guest, however, if he shoots a deer, or a buffalo, or 
wild boar, must pay the keeper at a certain fixed price, not much 
above its price in the market, which a sportsman would hardly think 
above its worth for game of his own killing. The town of Salerno 
is a "beautiful seaport town, and it is, as it were, wrapt in an Italian 
cloak hanging round the limbs, or, to speak common sense, the new 



1832.] JOURNAL 581 

streets which they are rebuilding. We made no stop at Salerno, but 
continued to traverse the great plain of that name, within sight of the 
sea, which is chiefly pastured by that queer-looking brute, the buffalo, 
concerning which they have a notion that it returns its value sooner, 
and with less expense of feeding, than any other animal. 

At length we came to two streams which join their forces, and 
would seem to flow across the plain to the bottom of the hills. One, 
however, flows so flat as almost scarcely to move, and sinking into 
a kind of stagnant pool is swallowed up by the earth, without pro- 
ceeding any further until, after remaining buried for two or three 
[miles ?] underground, it again bursts forth to the light, and resumes 
its course. When we crossed this stream by a bridge, which they 
are now repairing, we entered a spacious plain, very like that which 
we had [left] and displaying a similar rough and savage cultivation. 
Here savage herds were under the guardianship of shepherds as wild 
as they were themselves, clothed in a species of sheep-skins, and carry- 
ing a sharp spear with which they herd and sometimes kill their buf- 
faloes. Their farmhouses are in very poor order, and with every mark 
of poverty, and they have the character of being moved to dishon- 
esty by anything like opportunity ; of this there was a fatal instance, 
but so well avenged that it is not like to be repeated till it has long 
faded out of memory. The story, I am assured, happened exactly as 
follows : — A certain Mr. Hunt, lately married to a kdy of his own 
age, and, seeming to have had what is too often the Englishman's 
characteristic of more money than wit, arrived at Naples a year or 
two ago en famille, and desirous of seeing all the sights in the vicini- 
ty of this celebrated place. Among others Paestum was not forgot. 
At one of the poor farmhouses where they stopped, the inhabitant set 
her eyes on a toilet apparatus which was composed of silver and had 
the appearance of great value. The woman who spread this report 
addressed herself to a youth who had been [under] arms, and un- 
doubtedly he and his companions showed no more hesitation than 
the person with whom the idea had originated. Five fellows, not 
known before this time for any particular evil, agreed to rob the Eng- 
lish gentleman of the treasure of which he had made such an impru- 
dent display. They v/ere attacked by the banditti in several parties, 
but the principal attack was directed to Mr. Hunt's carriage, a servant 
of that gentleman being, as well as himself, pulled out of the carriage 
and watched by those who had undertaken to conduct this bad deed. 
The man who had been the soldier, probably to keep up his courage, 
began to bully, talk violently, and strike the valet de place, who scream- 
ed out in a plaintive manner, " Do not injure me." His master, hop- 
ing to make s.ome impression, said, " Do not hurt my servant," to 
which the principal brigand replied, "If he dares to resist, shoot 
him." The man who stood over Mr. Hunt unfortunately took the 
captain at the word, and his shot mortally wounded the unfortunate 
gentleman and his wlfe», wLo hoth dtsd-iieA^^-da^-airtJii-i- latitllatly's, 



582 JOURNAL [March 

Miss Whyte, who had the charity to receive them that they might 
hear their own language on their deathbed. The Neapolitan Gov- 
ernment made the most uncommon exertions. The whole of the as- 
sassins were taken within a fortnight, and executed within a week 
afterwards. In this wild spot, rendered unpleasing by the sad re- 
membrance of so inhuman an accident, and the cottages which served 
for refuge for so wretched and wild a people, exist the celebrated 
ruins of Paestum. Being without arms of any kind, the situation 
was a dreary one, and though I can scarce expect now to defend my- 
self effectually, yet the presence of [illegible] would have been an in- 
finite cordial. The ruins are of very great antiquity, which for a very 
long time has not been suspected, as it was never supposed that the 
Sybarites, a luxurious people, were early possessed of a style of archi- 
tecture simple, chaste, and inconceivably grand, which was lost before 
the time of Augustus, who is said by Suetonius to have undertaken a 
journey on purpose to visit these remains of an architecture, the most 
simple and massive of which Italy at least has any other specimen. 
The Greeks have specimens of the same kind, but they are composed 
not of stone, like Paestum, but of marble. All this has been a dis- 
covery of recent date. The ruins, which exist without exhibiting 
much demolition, are three in number. The first is a temple of im- 
mense size, having a portico of the largest columns of the most awful 
species of classic architecture. The roof, which was composed of im- 
mense stones, was destroyed, but there are remains of the Cella, con- 
trived for the sacrifices to which the priests and persons of high of- 
fice were alone [admitted]. 

A piece of architecture more massive, without being cumbrous or 
heavy, was never invented by a mason. 

A second temple in the same style was dedicated to Ceres as the 
large one was to Neptune, on whose dominion they looked, and who 
was the tutelar deity of Paestum, and so called from one of his Greek 
names. The fane of Ceres is finished with the greatest accuracy and 
beauty of proportion and taste, and in looking upon it I forgot all the 
unpleasant feelings which at first oppressed me. The third was not a 
temple, but a Basilica, or species of town-house, as it was called, hav- 
ing a third row of pillars running up the middle, between the two 
which surrounded the sides, and were common to the Basilica and 
temple both. These surprising public edifices have therefore all a re- 
semblance to each other, though also points of distinction. If Sir 
William Gell makes clear his theory he will throw a most precious 
light on the origin of civilisation, proving that the sciences have not 
sprung at once into light and life, but rose gradually with extreme 
purity, and continued to be practised best by those who first invented 
them. Full of these reflections, we returned to our hospitable Miss 
Whyte in a drizzling evening, but unassassinated, and our hearts com- 
pletely filled with the magnificence of what we had seen. Miss 

W^Wtc Lad in tko incaiwrKilc, by her interest at La Trixvitsk. with the 



1832.] JOURNAL 583 

Abbot, obtained us permission to pay a visit to him, and an invita- 
tion indeed to dinner, which only the vreather and the health of Sir 
William Grell and myself prevented our accepting. After breakfast, 
therefore, on the 1 8th of March, we set out for the convent, situated 
about two or three miles from the town in a very large ravine, not 
unlike the bed of the Rosslyn river, and traversed by roads which 
from their steepness and precipitancy are not at all laudable, but the 
views were beautiful and changing incessantly, while the spring ad- 
vancing was spreading her green mantle over rock and tree, and mak- 
ing that beautiful which was lately a blighted and sterile thicket. 
The convent of Trintia itself holds a most superb situation on the 
projection of an ample rock. It is a large edifice, but not a hand- 
some one — the monks reserving their magnificence for their churches 
— but was surrounded by a circuit of fortifications, which, when there 
was need, were manned by the vassals of the convent in the style of 
the Feudal system. This was in some degree the case at the present 
day. The Abbot, a gentlemanlike and respectable-looking man, at- 
tended by several of his monks, received us with the greatest polite- 
ness, and conducted us to the building, where we saw two great 
sculptured vases, or more properly sarcophagi, of [marble?], well 
carved in the antique style, and adorned with the story of Meleager. 
They were in the shape of a large bath, and found, I think, at Paestum. 
The old church had passed to decay about a hundred years ago, when 
the present fabric was built; it is very beautifully arranged, and 
worthy of the place, which is eminently beautiful, and of the com- 
munity, who are Benedictines — the most gentlemanlike order in the 
Roman Church. 

We were conducted to the private repertory of the chapel, which 
contains a number of interesting deeds granted by sovereigns of the 
Grecian, Norman, and even Saracen descent. One from Roger, king 
of Sicily, extended His Majesty's protection to some half dozen men 
of consequence whose names attested their Saracenism. 

In all the society I have been since I commenced this tour, I 
chiefly regretted on the present occasion the not having refreshed my 
Italian for the purpose of conversation. I should like to have con- 
versed with the Churchmen very much, and they seem to have the 
same inclination, but it is too late to be thought of, though I could 
read Italian well once. The church might boast of a grand organ, 
with fifty-seven stops, all which we heard played by the ingenious 
organist. We then returned to Miss Whyte's for the evening, ate a 
mighty dinner, and battled cold weather as we might. 

In further remarks on Paestum I may say there is a city wall in 
wonderful preservation, one of the gates of which is partly entire and 
displays the figure of a Syren under the architrave, but the antiquity 
of the sculpture is doubted, though not that of the inner part of the 
gate — so at least thinks Sir William, our best authority on such mat- 
ters. Many antiquities have been, and many more probably will be, 



584 JOURNAL [March 

discovered. Paestum is a place which adds dignity to the peddling 
trade of the ordinary antiquarian. 

March 19. — This morning we set off at seven for Naples ; we ob- 
served remains of an aqueduct in a narrow, apparently designed for 
the purpose of leading water to La Cava, but had no time to conject- 
ure on the subject, and took our road back to Pompeii, and passed 
through two towns of the same name, Nocera dei [Cristiani] and 
Nocera dei Pagani.' In the latter village the Saracens obtained a 
place of refuge, from which it takes the name. It is also said that 
the circumstance is kept in memory by the complexion and features 
of this second Nocera, which are peculiarly of the African caste and 
tincture. After we passed Pompeii, where the continued severity of 
the weather did not permit us, according to our purpose, to take an- 
other survey, we saw in the adjacent village between us and Portici 
the scene of two assassinations, still kept in remembrance. The one 
I believe was from the motive of plunder. The head of the assassin 
was set up after his execution upon a pillar, which still exists, and it 
remained till the skull rotted to pieces. The other was a story less 
in the common style, and of a more interesting character : — A farmer 
of an easy fortune, and who might be supposed to leave to his 
daughter, a very pretty girl and an only child, a fortune thought in 
the village very considerable. She was, under the hope of sharing 
such a prize, made up to by a young man in the neighbourhood, 
handsome, active, and of a very good general character. He was of 
that sort of person who are generally successful among women, and 
the girl was supposed to have encouraged his addresses ; but her 
father, on being applied to, gave him a direct and positive refusal. 
The gallant resolved to continue his addresses in hopes of overcom- 
ing this obstacle by his perseverance, but the father's opposition seemed 
only to increase by the lover's pertinacity. At length, as the father 
walked one evening smoking his pipe upon the terrace before his 
door, the lover unhappily passed by, and, struck with the instant 
thought that the obstacle to the happiness of his life was now entirely 
in his own power, he rushed upon the father, pierced him with three 
mortal stabs of his knife, and killed him dead on the spot, and made 
his escape to the mountains. What was most remarkable was that 
he was protected against the police, who went, as was their duty, in 
quest of him, by the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, who afforded 
him both shelter and such food as he required, looking on him less 
as a wilful criminal than an unfortunate man, who had been surprised 
by a strong and almost irresistible temptation. So congenial, at this 
moment, is the love of vengeance to an Italian bosom, and though 
chastised in general by severe punishment, so much are criminals 
sympathised with by the community. 

March 20. — I went with Miss Talbot and Mr. Lushington and his 

» The places are now known as Nocera Superiore and Nocera Inferiore. 



1832.] JOURNAL 585 

sister to the great and celebrated church of San Domenico Maggiore, 
which is the most august of the Dominican churches. They once 
possessed eighteen shrines in this part of Naples. It contains the 
tomb of St. Thomas Aquinas, and cilso the tombs of the royal family, 
which remain in the vestry. There are some large boxes covered 
with yellow velvet which contain their remains, and which stand 
ranged on a species of shelf, formed by the heads of a set of oaken 
presses which contain the vestments of the monks. The pictures of 
the kings are hung above their respective boxes, containing their 
bones, without any other means of preserving them. At the bottom 
of the lofty and narrow room is the celebrated Marquis di [Pes- 
cara], one of Charles v.'s most renowned generals, who commanded 
at the battle of Pavia. . . . The church itself is very large and ex- 
tremely handsome, with many fine marble tombs in a very good style 
of architecture. The time being now nearly the second week in Lent, 
the church was full of worshippers. 

[While at Naples Sir Walter wrote frequently to his daughter, to 
Mr. Cadell, Mr. Laidlaw, and Mr. Lockhart. The latter says, " Some 
of these letters were of a very melancholy cast ; for the dream about 
his debts being all settled was occasionally broken." One may be 
given here. It is undated, but was written some time after receiving 
the news of the death of his little grandson, and shows the tender 
relations which existed between Sir Walter and his son-in-law : — 

" My dear Lockhart, — I have written with such regularity that 
... I will not recur to this painful subject. I hope also I have found 
you both persuaded that the best thing you can do, both of you, is to 
come out here, where you would find an inestimable source of amuse- 
ment, many pleasant people, and livdng in very peaceful and easy so- 
ciety. I wrote you a full account of my own matters, but I have now 
more complete [information]. I am ashamed, for the first time in my 
life, of the two novels, but since the pensive public have taken them, 
there is no more to be said but to eat my pudding and to hold my 
tongue. Another thing of great interest requires to be specially men- 
tioned. You may remember a work in which our dear and accom- 
plished friend Lady Louisa condescended to take an oar, and which 
she has handled most admirably. It is a supposed set of extracts rela- 
tive to James vi. from a collection in James vi.'s time, the costume (?) 
admirably preserved, and, like the fashionable wigs, more natural than 
one's own hair. This, with the Lives of the Novelists and some oth- 
er fragments of my wreck, went ashore in Constable's, and were sold 
off to the highest bidder, viz., to Cadell, for himself and me. I wrote 
one or two fragments in the same style, which I M'ish should, ac- 
cording to original intention, appear without a name, and were they 
fairly lightly let off there is no fear of their making a blaze. I sent 
the whole packet either to yourself or Cadell, with the request. The 
copy, which I conclude is in your hands by the time this reaches you, 



586 JOURNAL [March, 1832. 

might be set up as speedily and quietly as possible, taking some little 
care to draw the public attention to you, and consulting Lady Louisa 
about the proofs. The fun is that our excellent friend had forgot the 
whole affair till I reminded her of her kindness, and was somewhat 
inclined, like Lady Teazle, to deny the butler and the coach-horse. I 
have no doubt, however, she will be disposed to bring the matter to 
an end. The mode of publication I fancy you will agree should rest 
with Cadell. So, pro\dding that the copy come to hand, which it usu- 
ally does, though not very regularly, you will do me the kindness to 
get it out. My story of Malta will be with you by the time you have 
linished the Letters, and if it succeeds it will in a great measure en- 
able me to attain the long projected and very desirable object of clear- 
ing me from all old encumbrances and expiring as rich a man as 1 
could desire in my own freehold. And when you recollect that this 
has been wrought out in six years, the sum amounting to at least 
£120,000, it is somewhat of a novelty in literature. I shall be as 
happy and rich as I please for the last days of my life, and play the 
good papa with my family without thinking on pounds, shillings, and 
pence. Cadell, with so fair a prospect before him, is in high spirits, 
as you will suppose, but I had a most uneasy time from the interrup- 
tion of our correspondence. However, thank God, it is all as well as 
I could wish, and a great deal better than I ventured to hope. After 
the Siege of Malta I intend to close the [series] of Waverley with a 
poem in the style of the Zay, or rather of the Lady of the Lake^ to be 
a L'Envoy, or final postscript to these tales. The subject is a curious 
tale of chivalry belonging to Rhodes. Sir Frederick Adam will give 
me a cast of a steam-boat to visit Greece, and you will come and go 
with me. We live in a Palazzo, which with a coach and the support- 
ers thereof does not, table included, cost £120 or £130 a month. So 
you will add nothing to our expenses, but give us the great pleasure 
of assisting you when I fear literary things have a bad time. We will 
return to Europe through Germany, and see what peradventure we 
shall behold. I have written repeatedly to you on this subject, for you 
would really like this country extremely. You cannot tread on it but 
you set your foot upon some ancient history, and you cannot make 
scruple, as it is the same thing whether you or I are paymaster. My 
health continues good, and bettering, as the Yankees say. I have 
gotten a choice manuscript of old English Romances, left here by 
Richard, and for which I know I have got a lad can copy them at a 
shilling a day. , The King has granted me liberty to carry it home 
with me, which is very good-natured. I expect to secure something 
for the Roxburghe Club. Our posts begin to get more regular. I 
hope dear baby is getting better of its accident, poor soul. — Love to 
Sophia and Walter. 

Your affectionate Father, 

Walter Scott.] 



APRIL 

April 15, Naples. — I am on the eve of leaving Naples after a resi- 
dence of three or four months, my strength strongly returning, though 
the weather has been very uncertain. What with the interruption oc- 
casioned by the cholera and other inconveniences, I have not done 
much. I have sent home only the letters by L. L. Stuart and three 
volumes of the Siege of Malta. I sent them by Lord Cowper's son 
— Mr. Cowper returning, his leave being out — and two chests of 
books by the Messrs. Turner, Malta, who are to put them on board a 
vessel, to be forwarded to Mr. Cadell through Whittaker. I have 
hopes they will come to hand safe. I have bought a small clos- 
ing carriage, warranted new and English, cost me £200, for the con- 
venience of returning home. It carries Anne, Charles, and the two 
servants, and we start to-morrow morning for Rome, after which we 
shall be starting homeward, for the Greek scheme is blown up, as Sir 
Frederick Adam is said to be going to Madras, so he will be unable 
to send a frigate as promised. I have spent on the expenses of med- 
ical persons and books, etc., a large sum, yet not excessive. 

Meantime we [may] have to add a curious journey of it. The 
brigands, of whom there are so many stories, are afloat once more, 
and many carriages stopped. A curious and popular work would be 
a history of these ruffians. Washington Irving has attempted some- 
thing of the kind, but the person attempting this should be an Ital- 
ian, perfectly acquainted with his country, character, and manners. 
Mr. R , an apothecary, told me a singular [occurrence] which hap- 
pened in Calabria about six years ago, and which I may set down just 
now as coming from a respectable authority, though I do not [vouch 

it]. 

Death of II Bizarro. 

This man was called, from his wily but inexorable temper, II Bi- 
zarro, i.e. the Bizar. He was captain of a gang of banditti, whom he 
governed by his own authority, till he increased them to 1000 men, 
both on foot and horseback, whom he maintained in the mountains 
of Calabria, between the French and Neapolitans, both of whom he 
defied, and pillaged the country. High rewards were set upon his 
head, to very little purpose, as he took care to guard himself against 
being betrayed by his own gang, the common fate of those banditti 
who become great in their vocation. At length a French colonel, 
whose name I have forgot, occupied the country of Bizarro, with such 
success that he formed a cordon around him and his party, and in- 



688 JOURNAL [April 

eluded liim between the folds of a military column. Well-nigh driven 
to submit himself, the robber with his wife, a very handsome woman, 
and a child of a few months old, took a position beneath the arch of 
an old bridge, and, by an escape almost miraculous, were not perceived 
by a strong party whom the French maintained on the top of the 
arch. Night at length came without a discovery, which every moment 
might have made. When it became quite dark, the brigand, enjoin- 
ing strictest silence on the female and child, resolved to steal from 
his place of shelter, and as they issued forth, kept his hand on the 
child's throat. But as, when they began to move, the child naturally 
cried, its father in a rage stiffened his grip so relentlessly that the 
poor infant never offended more in the same manner. This horrid 
[act] led to the conclusion of the robber's life. 

His wife had never been very fond of him, though he trusted her 
more than any who approached him. She had been originally the 
wife of another man, murdered by her second husband, which second 
marriage she was compelled to undergo, and to affect at least the con- 
duct of an affectionate wife. In their wanderings she alone knew 
where he slept for the night. He left his men in a body upon the 
top of an open hill, round which they set watches. He then went 
apart into the woods with his wife, and having chosen a glen — an ob- 
scure and deep thicket of the woods, there took up his residence for 
the night. A large Calabrian sheep-dog, his constant attendant, was 
then tied to a tree at some distance to secure his slumbers, and hav- 
ing placed his carabine within reach of his lair, he consigned himself 
to such sleep as belongs to his calling. By such precautions he had 
secured his rest for many years. 

But after the death of the child, the measure of his offence tow- 
ards the unhappy mother was full to the brim, and her thoughts be- 
came determined on revenge. One evening he took up his quarters 
for the night with these precautions, but without the usual success. 
He had laid his carabine near him, and betaken himself to rest as 
usual, when his partner arose from his side, and ere he became sen- 
sible she had done so, she seized [his carabine], and discharging [it] 
in his bosom, ended at once his life and crimes. She finished her 
work by cutting off the brigand's head, and carrying it to the princi- 
pal town of the province, where she delivered it to the police, and 
claimed the reward attached to his head, which was paid accordingly. 
This female still lives, a stately, dangerous-looking woman, yet scarce 
ill thought of, considering the provocation. 

The dog struggled extremely to get loose on hearing the shot. 
Some say the female shot it ; others that, in its rage, it very nearly 
gnawed through the stout young tree to which it was tied. He was 
worthy of a better master. 

The distant encampment of the band was disturbed by the firing 
of the Bizarro's carabine at midnight. They ran through the woods 
to seek the captain, but finding him lifeless and headless, they be- 



1832.] JOTJENAL 589 

came so mucli surprised that many of them surrendered to the gov- 
ernment, and relinquished their trade, and the band of Bizarro, as it 
lived by his ingenuity, broke up by his death. 

A story is told nearly as horrible as the above, respecting the cru- 
elty of this bandit, which seems to entitle him to be called one of the 
most odious wretches of his name. A French oflScer, who had been 
active in the pursuit of him, fell into his hands, and was made to die 
[the death] of Marsyas or Saint Polycarp — that is, the period being 
the middle of summer, he was flayed alive, and, being smeared with 
honey, was exposed to all the intolerable insects of a southern sky. 
The corps were also informed where they might find their officer if 
they thought proper to send for him. As more than two days elapsed 
before the wretched man was found, nothing save his miserable relics 
could be discovered. 

I do not warrant these stories, but such are told currently. 

[Tour from Naples to Borne], April 16. — Having remained several 
months at Naples, we resolved to take a tour to Rome during the 
Holy Week and view the ecclesiastical shows which take place, al- 
though diminished in splendour by the Pope's poverty. So on the 
15th we set out from Naples, ray children unwell. We passed 
through the Champ de Mars,^ and so on by the Terra di Lavoro, a 
rich and fertile country, and breakfasted at St. Agatha, a wretched 
place, but we had a disagreeable experience. I had purchased a 
travelling carriage, assured that it was English-built and all that. 
However, when we were half a mile on our journey, a bush started 
and a wheel came off, but by dint of contrivances we fought our way 
back to Agatha, where we had a miserable lodging and wretched 
dinner. The people were civil, however, and no bandits abroad, be- 
ing kept in awe by the escort of the King of Westphalia,** who was 
on his road to Naples. The wheel was effectually repaired, and at 
seven in the morning we started with some apprehension of suffering 
from crossing the very moist marshes called the Pontine Bogs, which 
lie between Naples and Rome. This is not the time when these ex- 
halations are most dangerous, though they seem to be safe at no 
time. We remarked the celebrated Capua, which is distinguished 
into the new and old. The new Capua is on the banks of the river 
Volturno, which conducts its waters into the moats. It is still a 
place of some strength in modern war. The approach to the old 
Capua is obstructed by an ancient bridge of a singular construction, 
and consists of a number of massive towers half ruined. We did not 
pass very near to them, but the site seems very strong. We passed 
Sinuessa or Sessa, an ancient Greek town, situated not far from shore. 
The road from Naples to Capua resembles an orchard on both sides, 
but, alas ! it runs through these infernal marshes, which there is no 
shunning, and which the example of many of my friends proves to be 
exceeding dangerous. The road, though it has the appearance of 
1 Paese dei Marsi or Marsica. » Jerome Bonaparte, ex-King of Westphalia. 



690 JOURNAL [April, 1832. 

winding among hills, is in fact, on the left side, limited by the sea- 
coast running northward. It comes into its more proper line at a cel- 
ebrated sea-marsh called Cameria^, concerning which the oracle said 
*'iVe moveas Camarinam^^^ and the transgression of which precept 
brought on a pestilence. The road here is a wild pass bounded by a 
rocky precipice ; on one hand covered with wild shrubs, flowers, and 
plants, and on the other by the sea. After this we came to a mili- 
tary position, where Murat used to quarter a body of troops and can- 
nonade the English gunboats, which were not slow in returning the 
compliment. The English then garrisoned Italy and Sicily under Sir 
[John Stuart]. We supped at this place, half fitted up as a barrack, 
half as an inn. (The place is now called Terracina.) Near this a 
round tower is shown, termed the tomb of Cicero, which may be 
doubted. I ought, before quitting Terracina, to have mentioned the 
view of the town and castle of Gaeta from the Pass. It is a castle of 
great strength. I should have mentioned A versa, remarkable for a 
house for insane persons, on the humane plan of not agitating their 
passions. After a long pilgrimage on this beastly road we fell asleep 
in spite of warnings to the contrary, and before we beat the reveille 
were within twenty miles of the city of Rome. I think I felt the ef- 
fects of the bad air and damp in a very bad headache. 

After a steep climb up a slippery ill-paved road Yelletri received 
us, and accommodated us in an ancient villa or chateau, the original 
habitation of an old noble. I would have liked much to have taken 
a look at it ; but I am tired by my ride. I fear my time for such re- 
searches is now gone. Monte Albano, a pleasant place, should also 
be mentioned, especially a forest of grand oaks, which leads you pret- 
ty directly into the vicinity of Rome. My son Charles had requested 
the favour of our friend Sir William Gell to bespeak a lodging, which, 
considering his bad health, was scarcely fair. My daughter had im- 
posed the same favour, but they had omitted to give precise direction 
how to correspond with their friends concerning the execution of their 
commission. So there we were, as we had reason to think, possessed 
of two apartments and not knowing the [way] to any of them. We 
entered Rome by a gate' renovated by one of the old Pontiffs, but 
which, I forget, and so paraded the streets by moonlight to discover, 
if possible, some appearance of the learned Sir William Gell or the 
pretty Mrs. Ashley. At length we found our old servant who guided 
us to the lodgings taken by Sir William Gell, where all was comforta- 
ble, a good fire included, which our fatigue and the chilliness of the 
night required. We dispersed as soon as we had taken some food, 
wine, and water. 

We slept reasonably, but on the next morning 

1 The sea marsh " Cameria " is not indicated marsh "which Fate forbad to draia"— Con- 
in the latest maps of Italy, but it would appear ington's Virgil (JE«. iii. 700-1). 
that some such name in the Pontine Bogs had 

recalled to Sir Walter the ancient proverb re- 2 porta St. Giovanni, rebuilt by Gregory xiiL 

lating to Camarina, that Sicilmn city on the in 1574. 



APPENDIX 

No. I. 

Scott's letters to Erskine. — P. 40. 

Sir Walter was in the habit of consulting him in those matters 
more than any of his other friends, having great reliance upon his 
critical skill. The manuscripts of all his poems, and also of the ear- 
lier of his prose works, were submitted to Kinnedder's judgment, and 
a considerable correspondence on these subjects had taken place be- 
twixt them, which would, no doubt, have constituted one of the most 
interesting series of letters Sir Walter had left. 

Lord Kinnedder was a man of retired habits, but little known ex- 
cept to those with whom he lived on terms of intimacy, and by whom 
he was much esteemed, and being naturally of a remarkably sensitive 
mind, he was altogether overthrown by the circumstance of a report 
having got abroad of some alleged indiscretions on his part in which 
a lady was also implicated. Whether the report had any foundation 
in truth or not, I am altogether ignorant, but such an allegation af- 
fecting a person in his situation in life as a judge, and doing such 
violence to the susceptibility of his feelings, had the effect of bring- 
ing a severe illness which in a few days terminated his life. I never 
saw Sir Walter so much affected by any event, and at the funeral, 
which he attended, he was quite unable to suppress his feelings, but 
wept like a child. The family, suddenly bereft of their protector, 
were young, orphans, their mother, daughter of Professor John Rob- 
ertson, having previously died, found also that they had to struggle 
against embarrassed circumstances ; neither had they any near rela- 
tive in Scotland to take charge of their affairs. But a lady, a friend 
of the family, Miss M , was active in their service, and it so hap- 
pened, in the course of arranging their affairs, the packet of letters 
from Sir Walter Scott, containing the whole of his correspondence 
with Lord Kinnedder, came into her hands. She very soon discov- 
ered that the correspondence laid open the secret of the authorship 
of the Waverley Novels, at that period the subject of general and in- 
tense interest, and as yet unacknowledged by Sir Walter. 

, Considering what under these circumstances it was her duty to 
do, whether to replace the letters and suffer any accident to bring to 
light what the author seemed anxious might remain unknown, or to 



592 APPENDIX 

seal tliem up, and keep them in her own custody undivulged — or 
finally to destroy them in order to preserve the secret, — with, no 
doubt, the best and most upright motives, so far as her own judg- 
ment enabled her to decide in the matter, in which she was unable to 
take advice, without betraying what it was her object to respect, she 
came to the resolution, most unfortunately for the world, of destroy- 
ing the letters. And, accordingly, the whole of them were committed 
to the flames ; depriving the descendants of Lord Kinnedder of a pos- 
session which could not fail to be much valued by them, and which, 
in connection with Lord Kinnedder's letters to Sir Walter, which are 
doubtless preserved, would have been equally valuable to the public, 
as containing the contemporary opinions, prospects, views, and senti- 
ments under which these works were sent forth into the world. It 
would also have been curious to learn the unbiased impression which 
the different works created on the mind of such a man as Lord Kin- 
nedder, before the collision of public opinion had suffused its influ- 
ence over the opinions of people in general in this matter. — Skene's 
Reminiscences. 



No. n. 

Letter from Mr. Carlyle referred to on p. 379.* 

Edinbueqh, 21 Comely Bank, 
Uth April 1828. 

Sir, — In February last I had the honour to receive a letter from 
Von Goethe, announcing the speedy departure, from Weimar, of a 
Packet for me, in which, among other valuables, should be found 
'' two medals," to be delivered " mit verhindlichsten Grussen " to Sir 
Walter Scott. By a slow enough conveyance this Kdstchen, with its 
medals in perfect safety, has at length yesterday come to hand, and 
now lays on me the enviable duty of addressing you. 

Among its multifarious contents, the Weimar Box failed not to 
include a long letter — considerable portion of which, as it virtually 
belongs to yourself, you will now allow me to transcribe. Perhaps it 
were thriftier in me to reserve this for another occasion ; but consid- 
ering how seldom such a Writer obtains such a Critic, I cannot but 



1 It is much to be regretted that Scott and took. He must, however, have seen Scott sub- 
Carlyle never met. The probable explanation sequently, as he depicts him in the memorable 
is that the admirable letter now printed in ex- words, "Alas! his fine Scottish face, with its 
tenso, coming into a house where there was shaggy honesty and goodness, when we saw it 
sickness, and amid the turmoil of London life, latterly in the Edinburgh streets, was all worn 
was carefully laid aside for reply at a more with care— the joy all fled from it, and plough- 
convenient season. This season, unfortunate- ed deep with labour and sorrow." 
ly. never came. Scott did not return to Scot- Mr. Lockhart once said to a friend that he 
land until June 3d, and by that time Carlyle regretted that they had never met, and gave 
had left Edinburgh and settled at Craigenput- as a reason the state of Scott's health. 



APPENDIX 593 

reckon it pity that this friendly intercourse between them should be 
anywise delayed. 

" Sehen Sie Herrn Walter Scott, so sagen Sie ihm auf das verbind- 
lichste in meinem Namen Dank fiir den lieben heitern Brief, gerade 
in dem schonen Sinne geschrieben, dass der Mensch dem Menschen 
werth seyn miisse. So auch babe ich dessen Leben Napoleon's er- 
halten und solches in diesen Winterabenden und Nachten von Anfang 
bis zu Ende mit Aufmerksamkeit durchgelesen. 

" Mir war hochst bedeutend zu sehen, wie sich der erste Erzahler 
des Jahrhunderts einem so ungemeinen Geschaft unterzieht und uns 
die iiberwichtigen Begebenheiten, deren Zeuge zu seyn wir gezwun- 
gen wurden, in fertigem Zuge voriiberfiihrt. Die Abtheilung durch 
Capitel in grosse zusammengehorige Massen giebt den verschlungenen 
Ereignissen die reinste Fasslichkeit, und so wird dann auch der Yor- 
trag des Einzelnen auf das unschatzbarste deutlich und anschaulich. 

" Ich las es im Original, und da wirkte es ganz eigentlich seiner 
Natur nach. Es ist ein patriotischer Britte der spricht, der die Hand- 
lungen des Feindes nicht wohl mit gtinstigen Augen ansehen kann, 
der als ein rechtlicher Staatsbiirger zugleich mit den TJnternehmun- 
gen der Politik auch die Forderungen der Sittlichkeit befriedigt 
wiinscht, der den Gegner, im frechen Laufe des Gliicks, mit unseli- 
gen Folgen bedroht, und auch im bittersten Verfall ihn kaum bedau- 
ern kann. 

" Und so war mir noch ausserdem das Werk von der grossten Be- 
deutung, indem es mich an das Miterlebte theils erinnerte, theils mir 
manches Uebersehene nun vorfiihrte, mich auf einem unerwarteten 
Standpunkt versetzte, mir zu erwagen gab was ich fiir abgeschlossen 
hielt, und besonders auch mich befahigte die Gegner dieses wichtigen 
Werkes, an denen es nicht fehlen kann, zu beurtheilen und die Ein- 
wendungen, die sie von ihrer Seite vortragen, zu wiirdigen. 

" Sie sehen hieraus dass zu Ende des Jahres keine hohere Gabe 
hatte zu mir gelangen konnen. Es ist dieses Werk mir zu einem gol- 
denen Netz geworden, womit ich die Schattenbilder meines vergan- 
genen Lebens aus den Lethes-Fluthen mit reichem Zuge herauszu- 
forschen mich beschaftige. 

"Ungefahr dasselbige denke ich in dem nachsten Stiicke von 
Kunst und Alterthum zu sagen." 

With regard to the medals, which are, as I expected, the two well- 
known likenesses of Goethe himself, it could be no hard matter to 
dispose of them safely here, or transmit them to you, if you required 
it, without delay : but being in this curious fashion appointed as it 
were Ambassador between two Kings of Poetry, I would willingly dis- 
charge my mission with the solemnity that beseems such a business, 
and naturally it must flatter my vanity and love of the marvellous, to 
think that, by means of a Foreigner whom I have never seen, I might 

38 



694 APPENDIX 

now have access to my native Sovereign, whom I have so often seen 
in public and so often wished that I had claim to see and know in 
private and near at hand. — Till Whitsunday I continue to reside here ; 
and shall hope that some time before that period I may have oppor- 
tunity to wait on you, and, as my commission bore, to hand you these 
memorials in person. 

Meanwhile I abide your further orders in this matter; and so, 
with all the regard which belongs to one to whom I in common with 
other millions owe so much, — I have the honour to be, Sir, most re- 
spectfully your servant, Thomas Carlyle. 

Besides the two medals specially intended for you, there have 
come four more, which I am requested generally to dispose of 
amongst " Wohlwollendeny Perhaps Mr. Lockhart, whose merits in 
respect of German Literature, and just appreciation of this its Pa- 
triarch and Guide, are no secret, will do me the honour to accept 
of one and direct me through your means how I am to have it con- 
veyed ? 

Translation of the Letter from Goethe. 

" Should you see Sir Walter Scott, be so kind as return to him 
my most grateful thanks for his dear and cheerful letter, — a letter 
written in just that beautiful temper which makes one man feel him- 
self to be worth something to another. Say, too, that I received his 
Life of NapoleoD, and have read it this winter — in the evening and 
at night — with attention from beginning to end. To me it was full 
of meaning to observe how the first novelist of the century took upon 
himself a task and business, so apparently foreign to him, and passed 
under review with rapid stroke those important events of which it 
had been our fate to be eye-witnesses. The division into chapters, 
embracing masses of intimately connected events, gives a clearness 
to the historical sequence that otherwise might have been only too 
easily confused, while, at the same time, the individual events in 
each chapter are described with a clearness and a vividness quite in- 
valuable. 

" I read the work in the original, and the impression it made upon 
me was thus free from the disturbing influence of a foreign medium. 
I found myself listening to the words of a patriotic Briton, who finds 
it impossible to regard the actions of the enemy with a favourable 
eye, — an honest citizen this, whose desire is, that while political con- 
siderations shall always receive due weight, the demands of morality 
shall never be overlooked ; one who, while the enemy is borne along 
in his wanton course of good fortune, cannot forbear to point with 
warning finger to the inevitable consequences, and in his bitterest dis- 
aster can with difficulty find him worthy of a tear. 

" The book was in yet another respect of the greatest importance 



APPENDIX 596 

to me, in that it brought back to my remembrance events through 
which I had lived — now showing me much that I had overlooked, 
now transplanting me to some unexpected stand-point, thus forcing 
me to reconsider a question which I had looked upon as settled, and 
in a special manner putting me in a position to pass judgment upon 
the unfavourable critics of this book — for these cannot fail — and to 
estimate at their true value the objections which are sure to be made 
from their side. From all this you will understand how the end of 
last year could have brought with it no gift more welcome to me 
than this book. The work has become to me as it were a golden net, 
wherewith I can recover from out the waves of Lethe the shadowy 
pictures of my past life, and in that rich draught I am finding my 
present employment. 

" I intend making a few remarks to the same purpose in the next 
number of Kunst und Alter thumy ^ 



No. III. 

Contents of the Volume of Irish Manuscript referred to on 

p. 465. 

1. The rudiments of an Irish Grammar and Prosody ; the first leaf 
wanting. 

2. The Book of Rights ; giving an account of ye rents and subsi- 
dies of the kings and princes of Ireland. It is said to have (been) 
written by Beinin MacSescnen, the Psalmist of Saint Patrick. It is 
entirely in verse, except a few sentences of prose taken from ye booke 
of Glandelogh. 

3. A short poem giving an account of ye disciples and favourites 
of St. Patrick. 

4. A poem of Eochy O Flyn's ; giving an account of the follow- 
ers of Partholan, the first invader of Ireland after the flood. 

5. A poem written by Macliag, Brian Boruay's poet Laureat. It 
gives an account of the twelve sons of Kennedy, son of Lorcan, Bri- 
an's father ; and of ye Dalcassian race in general. 

6. A book of annals from the year 976 to 1014, including a good 
account of the battle of Clontarf, etc. 

7. A collection of Historical poems by different authors, such as 

» This purpose Goethe seems to have carried following entry is found:—" 1827. Ueber neu- 

out, for in the "Chronologie " which is printed ere frauzosische Literatur. — Ueber chinesische 

in the two-volume edition of his works, pub- Gedichte. — Ueber das Leben Napoleon^s von 

lished at Stuttgart, 1837 (vol. ii. page 63), the Walter ScotV 



596 APPENDIX 

O Dugan, etc., and some extracts, as they seem, from the psalter of 
Cashill, written by Cormac - mac - Cuilinan, Archbishop and King of 
Leath Mogha, towards the beginning or middle of the ninth century ; 
Cobhach O Carmon and O Heagusa have their part in these poems. 
In them are interspersed many other miscellaneous tracts, among 
which is one called Sgeul-an-Erin, but deficient, wherein mention is 
made of Garbh mac Stairn, said to be slain by Cucbullin ; a treatise 
explaining the Ogham manner of writing which is preserved in this 
book ; the privileges of the several kings and princes of Ireland, in 
making their tours of the Kingdom, and taking their seats at the 
Feis of Tara ; and an antient moral and political poem as an advice 
to princes and chieftains, other poems and prophecies, etc., chrono- 
logical and religious, disposed in no certain order. 

8. The last will and testament of Cormac-mac-Cuilinan in verse. 

9. The various forms of the Ogham. 

10. The death of Cuchullin, an antient story interspersed with 
poems, which, if collected, would contain the entire substance of the 
composition, which is very good (except in one instance) and founded 
on real fact. 

11. The bloody revenge of Conall Cearnach for the death of Cu- 
chullin. This may be considered as the sequel of the preceding sto- 
ry, and of equal authority and antiquity. It is written in the very 
same style, and contains a beautiful elegy on Cuchullin by his wife 
Eimhir. 

12. The death of Cormac Con luings, written in the same style 
with the foregoing stories. 

13. The genealogies of all ye principal Irish and Anglo-Norman 
families of Ireland to the end. 

14. A very good copy of the Cath-Gabhra. 

The above table of contents is in the handwriting of Dr. Matthew Young, late 
Bishop of Clonfert, a man possessing the highest talents and learning, and who had 
been acquainted with the Irish language from his infancy. J. B. 



No. IV. 

"A Former Empress." — P. 572. 

The Church of Santa Maria del Carmine contains relics dear alike 
to the romance of democracy and empire. It was from this church 
that Masaniello harangued the fickle populace in vain ; it was here 
that he was despatched by three bandits in the pay of the Duke of 



APPENDIX 597 

Maddaloni ; and here he found an honourable interment during a rapid 
reflux of popular favour. In this church, too, lies Conradin the last 
prince of the great house of Suabia, with his companion in arms and 
in death, Frederic, son of the Margrave of Baden, with pretensions, 
through his mother, to the Dukedom of Austria. The features of the 
mediaeval building have long since been obliterated by reconstructions 
of the 1 7th and 1 8th centuries, while round the tomb of Conradin a 
tissue of fictions has been woven by the piety and fondness of after 
times. The sceptics of modern research do not, however, forbid us 
to believe that there may be an element of truth in the beautiful le- 
gend of the visit and benefactions of Elizabeth Margaret of Bavaria, 
the widowed mother of Conradin, erroneously dignified with the title 
of Empress, to the resting-place of her son. Her statue in the con- 
vent, with a purse in her hand, seems to attest the tale, which was no 
doubt related to the Scottish Poet, and may well have stirred his fan- 
cy. What the epitaph was which he copied we cannot now deter- 
mine. It is not pretended that the unhappy lady was buried here, 
but two inscriptions commemorate the ferocity of Charles of Anjou, 
and the vicissitudes of fortune which befell his victims. One, be- 
lieved to be of great antiquity, is attached to a cross or pillar erected 
at the place of execution. It breathes the insolence of the conqueror 
mingled with a barbarous humour embodied in a play on words — for 
" Asturis " has a double reference to the kite and to the place " Astu- 
ra," at which the fugitive Princes were captured : 

"Asturis uugue Leo PuUum rapiens Aquilinum 
Hie deplumavit, acephalumque dedit." 

The other lines, in the Church, of more modern date, are conceived in 
a humaner spirit, and may possibly be those which touched the heart 
of the old worshipper of chivalry. 

Ossibvs et memoriae Conradini de Stovffen, vltimi ex sva progenie Sveviae dveis, 
Conradi Rom. Regis F. et Friderici ii. imp. nepotis, qui cvm Sicilias et Apvliae regna 
exercitv valido, vti hereditaria vindicare proposvisset, a Carolo Andegavio i. hvivs 
nominis rege Franco caeperani in agro Palento victvs et debellatvs extitit, deniqve 
captvs cvm Frederico de Asbvrgh vltimo ex linea Avstriae dvce, itineris, ac eivsdem 
fortvnae sotio, hie cvm aliis (proh scelvs) a victore rege secvri percvssvs est, 

Pivm Neap, coriariorvm collegivm, hvmanarvm miseriarvm memor, loco in aedic- 
vlam redacto, illorvm memoriam ab interitv conservavit. 

(For the details of the death of Conradin and the stories connect- 
ed with his memory see Summonte, Storia di Napoli, vol. ii. Celano, 
JVotizie di Napoli Qioi'nata Quarttty and St. Priest, Histoire de la Con- 
quete de Naples , vol. iii.) 



598 APPENDIX 



No. V. 



" Mother Goose's Tales," p. 575. The following note by a distin- 
guished authority on Nursery Tales, will be read with interest. 

" It is unfortunate that Sir Walter Scott did not record in his Di- 
ary the dates of the Neapolitan collection of * Mother Goose's Tales,' 
and of the early French editions with which he was acquainted. He 
may possibly have meant Basile's Lo Cunto de li cunti (Naples, 163V- 
44 and 1645), which contains some stories analogous to those which 
Scott mentions. There can be no doubt, however, that France, not 
Italy, can claim the shapes of Blue Beard, The Sleeping Beauty, Puss 
in Boots, and the other ' Tales of Mother Goose,' which are known 
best in England. Other forms of these nursery traditions exist, in- 
deed, not only in Italian, but in most European and some Asiatic and 
African languages. But their classical shape in literature is that which 
Charles Perrault gave them, in his Contes de ma Mere V Oie, of 169*7. 
Among the ' early French editions ' which Sir Walter knew, probably 
none were older than Dr. Donee's copy of 1707, now in the Bodleian. 
The British Museum has no early copy. There was an example of 
the First Edition sold in the Hamilton sale : another, or the same, in 
blue morocco, belonged to Charles Nodier, and is described in his Me- 
langes. The only specimen in the Public Libraries of Paris is in the 
Bibliotheque Victor Cousin. It is probable that the ' dumpy duodec- 
imo ' in the Neapolitan dialect, seen by Scott, was a translation of 
Perrault's famous little work. The stories in it, which are not in the 
early French editions, may be VAdroite Princesse, by a lady friend of 
Perrault's, and Peau d^Ane in prose, a tale which Perrault told only 
in verse. These found their way into French and Flemish editions 
after 1707. Our earliest English translation seems to be that of 1729, 
and the name of ' Mother Goose ' does not appear to occur in English 
literature before that date. It is probably a translation of ' Ma Mere 
rOie,' who gave her name to such old wives' fables in France long 
before Perrault's time, as the spider, Ananzi, gives his name to the 
* Nancy Stories ' of the negroes in the West Indies. Among Scott's 
Century of Inventions, unfulfilled projects for literary work, few are 
more to be regretted than his intended study of the origin of Popular 
Tales, a topic no longer thought ' obnoxious to ridicule.' " — a. l. 









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INDEX 



Abbeville, 186, 196. 
Abbotsford labourers, 100. 
Abercorn, Lady, 5V2, 
Abercrombie, Dr., 102, 509, 6S1. 

Miss, 460 w. 

Abercromby, James (afterwards Lord 
Dunfermline), 488 and n. 

Lord, 16, 69, 146, 147, 216, 332, 

333, 355, 481. 

Aberdeen, Lord, 316 «., 481. 

Abud & Son, bill-brokers, London, 175, 
311, 312 se^., 315 w., 317, 327. 

Academy, Edinburgh, Examination, 275. 

Acland, Sir Thomas, 381, 385. 

Adam, Right Hon. William, Lord Chief- 
Commissioner, 89, 132, 136, 212, 233, 
241, 320, 323 seq., 332, 351, 361, 363, 
488, 508, 512, 514, 520; sketch of, 
54 ; at Abbotsford, 337 ; Scott's visits 
to Blair-Adam, 140, 161, 265, 409-410, 
477, 494. See Blair-Adam. 

Admiral Sir Charles, 40, 89, 161, 

233, 241, 410, 477, 494. 

Sir Frederick, 161 ; on Byron and 

the Greeks, 165, 461, 578, 587. 

John, 54 n. 

Adam's class. High School, Edinburgh, 

455. 
Addington, Dr., 397. 
Adolphus, John, 385, 396. 
John L., letters to Heber, 289 and 

n., 290, 385, 454. 
Advocates' Library, plans, 78, 331. 
African travellers, 109. 
Ainslie, General, 363. 

Robert, 443. 

Ainsworth, W. H., 179 and n. 

Airaines, 196. 

Aitken, John, 555. 

Albums, suppression of, 1. 

Alexander, Emperor, 191, 306. 

Right Hon. Sir W., Chief Baron of 

Exchequer, 383. 

Mrs., of Ballochmyle, 389. 

Algiers, consular establishment at, 363- 

864. 



Allan, Thomas, 325. 

Sir William, P.R.A., 30 and 7i., 76, 

264, 289 seq., "Landing of Queen 

Mary," 147. 
Allans, the Hay (John Sobieski and 

Charles Edward Stuart), 470, 471 n. 
Alloway, Lord, 319 ?i., 413. 
Almacks, a novel, 242. 
Alnwick Castle, visit to, 305 ; Abbey, 

305. 
Alvanley, Lady, 127. 

Lord, 385. 

Anderson, Mr. and Mrs., 321. 

" Andrea de Ferraras," 576. 

Annandale claim, 136. 

Anne of Geierstein, 421, 435, 436, 449, 

450. 
Anstruther, Philip, 266. 
Antiquarian Society of Scotland, 323, 

465. 
Appleby Castle, 177. 
Arbuthnot, Sir William, 60, 208, 436, 

463, 468. 
Mr. and Mrs., 200 and n., 203, 390, 

392. 
Arden, .Misses, 385, 505. 
Argyle's stone, 296. 
Argyll, John, Duke of, projected life of, 

451. 
Arkwright, Mrs., 304, 386, 388, 390, 391, 

393. 
Arniston, old oak room at, 336. 
Ashbourne, 374. 
Ashestiel visited in 1826, 108. 
Ashford criminal case, 202. 
Ashley, Lord, 191. 

Mrs., 578, 590. 

Ashworth, Mr., 291. 

Auchinrath, 418. 

Audubon, John James, the ornithologist, 

224 and n., 225, 231 n. 
Augmentation cases of stipend, 500. 
Austen's, Miss, novels, 99, 298. 
Aylesbury, 377. 
Ayton, Miss, prima donna of the Italian 

Opera, 334. 



602 



INDEX 



Baillie, Charles (afterwards Lord Jer- 
viswoode), 331 w., 610. 

Mrs. Charles, Mellerstain, 345. 

Joanna, 96, 198, 326, 380, 448 n., 

454 n., 542 and n. ; tragedy and witch- 
craft, 279. 

Bainbridge, George, of Liverpool, 123, 
152, 165, 220, 249, 250, 251, 255, 278, 
299, 309. 

"Balaam," 119 and n. 

Balcaskie Manor-house, 266. 

Balfour of Balbirnie, 426. 

Charles, 515. 

Ballantyne & Co., 34, 35 ; stop payment, 
52 ; liabilities, 62 n., 379. 

Alexander, 124, 282, 372, 443, 472, 

480 ; skill as a violinist, 261 ; assumed 
as a partner, 429. 

James, meeting with Cadell and 

Constable, 9 ; calls at Castle Street, 
37 ; dinner and guests, 38 ; on Scott's 
style, 47, 51, 52; on Devorgoil^ 60; 
" False Delicacy," 62 ; Woodstock, 65 ; 
as " Tom Tell-trutb," recollections of 
Lord of the Isles, 81 ; Malachi, 82, 83 ; 
mottoes, 104; opinion of Woodstock, 
108; press corrections, 112, 124; 
"roars of chivalry," 144; opinion on 
Napoleon, 156, 164; illness, 168; at 
Abbotsford, 172-173 ; Napoleon, 244, 
260, 261 ; on Bride of Lammermoor 
and Legend of Montrose, 268 n.', pros- 
pect, 275; The Drovers, 279; com- 
mercial disasters, 280 n. ; Chronicles, 
281, 282, 328, 334, 347; at Abbots- 
ford, 282, 509-510 n. ; the copyrights, 
299 ; criticism, 326 ; Scott's consider- 
ation for, 343 ; on " Ossianic " charac- 
ter, 354, 378; Scott's handwriting, 
408 ; wife's illness and death, 427- 
428 ; names his trustees, 430, 431, 
449, 450 ; letter from Scott, 452, 453, 
480, 482 ; visit to Prestonpans, 497 ; 
objects to a new epistle from Malachi, 
509 n. ; approves of an amanuensis, 
518; a motto wanted, 519 n. 

Ballingray, 411, 495. 

Baluty Mount, 565. 

Bankes, William, 8 and n,, 200, 202, 
388 71. 

Bank of Scotland, 434. 

Banking Club of Scotland, 436. 

Bank-note business, 93. 

Bannatyne Club, 228, 229, 241, 325, 333, 
353,429, 481, 496. 

Bannatyne, George, Memorial of, 332 
and n. 

Sir Wm. M'Leod, 358. 



Barham, The, 547 seq. 
Barnard Castle^ 403. 
Barranco, 580. 
Barrington, Mrs., 304. 
Barrow, Sir John, 14, 249, 556. 
Bathurst, Earl, 236 n., 307, 387. 

Lady, 200. 

Colonel Seymour, 568, 569. 

Bauchland, 282. 

Bayes in the Rehearsal, 133 and n. 

Beacon newspaper, 212 and n. 

Beard's Judgments, 327. 

Beauclerk, Lady Charlotte, 12. 

Beaumont and Fletcher's Lover's Prog- 

^ ress, 30. 

Beaumont, Sir George, 71 ; anecdote of, 

with Wordsworth, 218; death, 233- 

234. 
Beauvais Cathedral, 186. 
Bedford, Duke and Duchess of, 323. 
Belhaven, Lord and Lady, 361. 
Bell, Mr., London, 386. 

Mr., 422. 

George, 322, 430. 

Miss E., of Coldstream, 365 and n. 

Miss Jane, of North Shields, 64, 

274. 
Belsches, Miss W. (afterwards Lady 

Forbes), 265, 310. 
Beresford, Lord, 424. 

Admiral Sir John, 302 and n. 

Berlingas, 659. 

Bernadotte, 252. 

Berri, Duchess of, 194. 

Bessborough, Lord, 307. 

Bethell, Dr., Bishop of Gloucester, 305 n. 

Bevis of Hampton, 576. 

Big bow-wow strain, 40, 99. 

Binning, Lord and Lady, 327, 332. 

Birmingham, 205. 

Bishop, Dr., 268. 

" Bizarro, death of," 587. 

Black, A. & C, publishers, 344 n. 

Captain R. N., 266. 

Dr., account of David Hume's last 

illness, 275. 
Black Dwarf, scene of the, 476 n. 
Black-fishing Court at Selkirk, 609. 
Blackwood, William, and Malachi, 82, 

83, 115, 144, 161. 
Blackwood's Magazine, 449, 528 and n. 
Blair, Captain, 635. 

Sir D. Hunter, 428. 

Colonel, and Mrs. Hunter, 426, 428, 

430. 
Blair -Adam, 161; meetings of Blair- 

Adam Club, 140, 265, 409^; 12th anni- 
versary, 477 ; 13th, 494. 



INDEX 



603 



Blakeney, Mr., tutor to the Duke of Buc- 
cleuch, 211. 

Blomfield, Bishop, 11, 381. 

Bloomfield, Lord, 270. 

Boaden's, James, the Garrick papers, 
330 n. 

Bonaparte. See Napoleon, 

Bonnechose, Emile de, 188. 

Bonnie Dundee, air of, 40, 42, 43. 

Bonnington, Mr., at Kenilworth, 375 n. 

Bonnvmoor Conflict, 561. 

Boothby, Sir William, 34. 

Borgo, Count Pozzo di, 174, 187, 189, 
195. 

Borthwick Castle, 335-336. 

Borthwicks of Crookston, 235, 259. 

Boswell, Sir Alexander, duel with Stuart 
of Dunearn, 38 and w., 426. 

James, 38 n. 

Bothwell Castle, 400 n. 

Boufflers, Madame de, 196 and n. 

Boulogne, 196. 

Bourgoin, Mademoiselle, a French ac- 
tress, 188. 

Bourmont, General, 563. 

Boutourlin's Moscow Campaign, 208. 

Bouverie, Mr., the Eaglish Commissioner, 
413. 

Boyd, Mr., Broadmeadows, 158. 

Walter, of Boyd, Benfield & Co., 

383, 384 and n. 

Boyle, Right Hon. David, Lord Justice- 
Clerk, 7 and n., 10 and n., 18, 38, 69, 
268, 355 and n., 424, 481. 

Brabazon, Lady Theodora, 322. 

Bradford, Sir Thomas, 173, 493. 

Brahan Castle, 407 n. 

Bramhletye House, 179 and n. 

Bran, Scott's deerhound, 518 and n. 

Braxtield, Lord, 18 n. 

Brewer's Merry Devil, 279 and n. 

Brewster, Dr. (afterwards Sir David), 
and Mrs., 152 and n., 158, 273, 290, 
307, 308, 370, 444, 445, 455, 459, 517. 

Bride of Lammermoor, letter from Will- 
iam Clerk, 472 n. 

Bridge, Mr., the jeweller, 389. 

Brinkley, Dr. John, Bishop of Cloyne, 
465, 466 n. 

Brisbane, Sir Thomas M., 163 and n., 
208, 278. 

Bristol riots, 550 n., 661 and n. 

Brocque, Monsieur, of Montpelier, 95. 

Brougham, Lord, 408, 548. 

Brown, Launcelot, 305. 

Misses, of George Square, Edin- 
burgh, 297, 322. 

Brown's SelkirTcshire quoted, 232, 510 n. 



Brown's, Mrs., lodgings, 5 St. David 

Street, 123 and n., 147. 
Bruce, Professor John, 478 and n. 

Tyndall, 478. 

Mr., from Persia, 164. 

Mr. and Mrs., 370. 

Brunei, 554. 

Brunton, Rev. Dr., 112 n. 

Brydone, Mrs. (widow of Patrick Bry- 

done), 40 and n. 
Buccleuch, fifth duke of, 70, 159, 174, 

214 n., 219, 321, 338, 352, 390, 42u, 

421, 426, 525, 532, 548. 

Dowager Duchess of. See Montagu. 

Buchan, Earl of, 167, 215 ; death of, 453. 

Dr. James, 9. 

Peter, Peterhead, 289. 

Buchanan, Hector Macdouald, 4 n., 21, 

136, 214, 235, 270, 320, 331, 363, 405. 

James Macdonald, 406. 

Miss Macdonald, of Drummakill, 3 

and n., 67, 224, 235. 

Major, of Cambusmore, 333, 355. 

Mr., Scott's amanuensis, 500, 503. 

Buckingham, Duchess of, 181. 
Buckingham's assassination, 555. 
Bugnie, Signor, 325. 
Burchard, Captain, 250. 
Burke, Edmund, 390, 398. 

trial of, 417 n., execution, 421, 423, 

435 ; Patterson's " collection of anec- 
dotes," 447. 

Burleigh House, visit to, 178. 
Burn, Mr., architect, 325 and n, 336, 540. 
Burnet, George, funeral of, 500. 
Burney, Dr., anecdote regarding, 202, 

899 and n. 
Burns, Col. James Glencairn, 545. 

Robert, 130, 181 ; Scott's admira- 
tion for, 211 ; skill in patching up old 
Scotch songs, 290. 

Tom, Coal Gas Committee, 365, 

Burrell, a teacher of drawing, 88. 

Bury, Lady Charlotte (Campbell), 181, 
465, 472. 

Butcher, Professor, 72 n. 

Butler, Lady Eleanor, 374 n. 

Byers, Colonel, 294. 

Byron, Lord, notes, 1 ; memoirs, 6 ; char- 
acteristics of, 7-9 ; lunch at Long's in 
1815, 39 ; views of the Greek question, 
165; Moore's request for letters, 415, 
474; allusion to early attachment, 
474; MSS., 539. 

Cadell, Francis, 498. 
Robert, of Constable & Co., meet- 
ing with Ballantyne and Constable, 9 ; 



604 



INDEX 



on affairs in London, 12; sjTnpathy 
for Scott, 37 ; advice to Scott, 53 ; es- 
trangement from Constable, 55-56; 
the sanctuary, 66, 69, 11, 142 ; prom- 
ised the Chronicles, 142, 162; second 
instalment on Chronicles, 115 ; eighth 
volume of Napoleon, 224 ; Tales of a 
Grandfather, 263 ; second edition of 
Napoleon, 274 ; equally responsible 
with Constable and Ballantyne, 280 
n. ; General Gourgaud, 290 ; copyright 
of novels, 297 ; Scott's opinion of, 299 ; 
visits London, 315, 318; copyright, 
318; second series Chronicles, 319, 
323 ; copyrights, 327 ; dissatisfied with 
the Chronicles, 328, 329, 330; plans 
for acquiring copyrights, 332; their 
purchase, 334-335; new edition of 
Tales of a Grandfather, 338, 343, 345, 
346, 350 ; the Magjium, 352, 354 ; pro- 
posals for three novels, 370 ; third 
edition of Tales of a Gi^andfather, 370 ; 
plans for the Magnum, 372, 378 ; suc- 
cess of Fair Maid of Perth, 405, 406 ; 
trustee for Ballantyne, 430 ; Hearth's 
letter, 431 ; prospectus of Magnum is- 
sued, 434; Scott's efforts in behalf of, 
434 ; and reciprocation, 435 ; opinion 
of Anne of Geierstein, 436, 437, 454, 
460 ; prospects of Magnum, 462, 464, 
468, 469 ; in treaty for Poetical Works, 
470, 472 ; Magnum, 473, 474, 477, 480, 
486 ; a faithful pilot, 489 ; twelfth vol- 
ume of Mag7ium, 491, 496 ; Preston- 
pans, 497 ; new copyrights, 505, 507 ; 
at Abbotsford, 509 n. ; remonstrates 
against a new Malachi, 512; Scott's 
visit, 519 ; . copyrights, 526 ; bad 
debts, 534, 546, 550, 560, 574, 576, 
585-586. 

Caesarias, Sir Ewain, grave, 374. 

Calais, 186, 196. 

Cambridge Master of Arts, anecdote of, 
403. 

"Cameria," 590. 

Cameron of Lochiel, 284. 

Camilla, a novel, 399 «. 

Campbell Airds, 363. 

Saddell, 363. 

Sir Archibald, of Succoth, 9, 348. 

General, of Lochnell, 331. 

Sir James, of Ardkinglas, Memoirs, 

113 n., 209. 

Colonel, of Blythswood, 295. 

Thomas, at Minto, 41 ; character- 
ized, 141, 258 ; in great distress, 386. 

Walter, 361. 

Canning, George, 17, 175, 201, 203, 249, 



250, 258, 276, 311, 380; his death, 
286-287. ■ 

Canterbury, Archbishop of (Howley), 381 
and n. ; (Tait), 275 and n. 

Capua, 589. 

Caradori, Madam, 469, 472. 

Carlisle, 373-374, 404. 

Carlyle, Thomas, 379 n. 

Carmine Church of Santa Maria, 596- 
597. 

Carnarvon, Lord, 279, 297. 

Carr, Mr, and Misses, 448, 449. 

Carthage, 565. 

Caruana, Don F. (Bishop of Malta), 570. 

Cashiobury, 400. 

Cassillis, Ayrshire, 410. 

Castellamare, 579. 

Castle Campbell, 410. 

Street, "Poor 39," 77, 87-88, 100, 

142. 

Castlereagh. See Londonderry. 

Cathcart, Captain, 428. 

Cauldshields, 149 ; Loch, 158. 

Cay, John, 14, 21. 

Cayley, Sir John, 327. 

Celtic Society, present of a broadsword, 
61; dinner, 349, 437. 

Ceuta, 562. 

Chalmers, Dr., on Waverly Novels, 112- 
113 n. 

Chambers, Robert 318,426. ' 

William, 325 n. 

Chantry, Sir Francis, 76, 390 n. ; Scott 
sits for second bust, 394, 397. 

Charlcote Hall, 376. 

Charles v. and Algiers, 563. 

Edward, Prince, and the '45 at Cul- 

loden, 72-73, 584. 

Charpentier, Madame (Lady Scott's moth- 
er), 121. 

Chatham, Lord, 397. 

Chaworth, Mary, 550 and n. 

Cheape, Douglas, 212 and n. 

George, 479, 495. 

Cheltenham, 205. 

Chessmen from Lewis, 552 and n. 

Cbevalier, M., 190. 

Chiefswood, summer residence of Mr. 
and Mrs. Lockhart, 110, 156, 171, 289, 
452. 

Chiswick, 394. 

Christie, Mr. and Mrs. 203. 

Chronicles of th£ Canongate, first series : 
commencement, 129; progress, 138, 
139, 274, 298 n., 313 n. ; completion 
and publication, 314 n., 51-53 ; second 
series, in progress, 316, 319, 325 ; fin- 
ished in April, 1828, 378 and n. 



INDEX 



605 



Chroniques Nationales, Jacques de La- 
lain, 81. 

Civic Crown^ the, 7. 

Clan Ranald, the, 11. 

Clanronald's story of Highland credulity, 
321. 

Clarence, Duke of, 171, 276. 

Clarendon's collection of pictures, 400. 

Clarkson, Dr. James, 43, 249, 513. 

Dr. Eben, 372 and n., 518. 

Cleasby, Mr., 446, 447. 

Cleghorn, Hugh, 266 and n. 

Clephane, Mrs. and Miss Maclean, 73, 
295, 492. 

Clerk, Sir George, 258. 

Miss E., death of, 52. 

Lieut. James, 481. 

William, prototype of Darsie Lati- 
mer, 30, 40, 67, 79, 85, 89, 140, 144, 
145, 146, 214, 223, 233, 289, 241, 258 
264, 275, 322, 324, 340, 355, 360, 361, 
405, 406, 410, 413, 421, 424, 472, 477, 
481, 519 w. ; sketch of, 1; chambers 
in Rose Court, 85 ; as a draughtsman, 
88 ; dinner party, 240 ; Gourgaud, 290, 
291, 294 ; on the judges' salaries, 464 ; 
letter from, 472 ji. 

Baron, 264, 413, 475. 

Clerk's, John, Naval Tactics, 2 n. 

Clive, Lord, 386, 393. 

Clonfert, Bishop of, 595-596. 

Club, the, 86 n., 500. 

Clunie, Rev. John, 336 and n. 

Coal Gas Co., 261, 262, 360, 365. 

Coalstoun Pear, 461 and n. 

Cochrane, Mr., of the Foreign Review, 
454. 

Cockburn, Lord, 210 ; the poisoning wom- 
an, 235 n.; 318, 417 w. 

Sir George, 182 ; his journal, 184. 

Robert, 10. 

Cockeozie, 498. 

Codman, Mr., of Boston, 463. 

Cohen. See Palgrave. 

Coke of Norfolk. See Leicester. 

Colburn, Mr. Henry, and the Garrick Pa- 
pers, 330; Huntly Gordon and the 
Religious Discourses, 348. 

Coleridge, Sir John Taylor, 14, 17 n. 

S. T., 382, 396 n., 571 and n. 

Collyer, tutor to Count Davidoff, 10, 30, 
371. 

Colman, Mr., 330, 390. 

Colne, the, 400. 

Colquhoun, John of Killermont, 494. 

Commission on the colleges in Scotland, 
168. 

Composition, mode of, 74, 



Compton, Lady, 290 and n., 294, 295. 

Conjuring story, 550-551. 

Conradin, 572 and n., 597. 

Constable & Co., position in Nov. 1825, 6 ; 
bond for £5000 for relief of H. and 
R., 20; confidence in London house, 
39 ; the origin of the Magnum, 42 ; 
anxiety, 45, 47 ; mysterious letter 
from, 51; H. and R.'s dishonoured 
bill for £1000, 52 ; the consequences of 
the fall, 53 ; Malachi, 83 ; affairs, 62, 
69, 134, 248; "Did Constable ruin 
Scott ?" 280 n. ; creditors, 299, 331 ; 
debts, 463, 585. 

Archibald, confidence in H. and R., 

9, 38 ; in London, 51 ; interview with 
Scott on Jan. 24th, 1826, 58 ; and on 
Feb. 6th, 68 ; and on March 14th, 99 ; 
power of gauging the value of literary 
property, 175 n.; death, 280. 

George, 476 n., 497. 

Constable's Miscellany, dedication to 
George iv., 38 n. 

Contemporary Club, 147. 

Conversation, English, Scotch, and Irish, 
2, 161. 

Conyngham, Lady, 182. 

Cooper, J. Fenimore, The Pilot, at the 
Adelphi, London, 183 ; meets Scott at 
Paris, 193 ; publishing in America, 
193, 194, 195; letter io Scott, 345 n. ; 
Scott reads Red Rover, 346 ; and Prai- 
rie, 349, 387 ; Mme. Mirbel's portrait 
of Scott, 442 n. 

Mr., an actor, 263. 

Copyrights of Waverley Novels, purchase 
of, 328, 329, 331, 332 ; bought, 334. 

Corby Castle, 374. 

Corder's trial, 496. 

Corehouse, 295, 296. 

Cork, freedom of, to Scott, 44. 

Cornwall, Barry. See Procter. 

Corri, Natili, 406 and n. 

Coulter, Provost, 111 and n. 

Count Robert of Paris, origin of, 81 ; 
condemned by Cadell and Ballantyne, 
641. 

Court of Sessions, new regulations,' 135. 

Coutts, Mrs., afterwards Duchess of St. 
Albans, 12, 13, 58, 182; letter from, 
272 w. 

Covenanters, Scott and the, 540 n. 

Cowan, Alexander, 62, 63, 330, 429, 534. 

Chas., Reminiscences, 555 n. 

Cowdenknowes, visit to, 172. 

Cowper, Mr., 587. 

Crabbe, Mr., 218, 380 n. 

Craig, Sir James Gibson, 280 w., 319 n, 



606 



INDEX 



Craigcrook, 466. 

Cramond Brig, 240. 

Crampton, Sir Philip, 158 n. 

Cranstoun, George, Lord Corehouse, Dean 
of Faculty, 134 and n., 145, 233, 241 ; 
Scott's visit to Corehouse, 295, 359 ; 
Maule V. Maide, 416. 

Henry, 155 and n., 249, 443. 

Craven, Mr. Keppel, 576. 

Crighton, Tom, 160. 

Cringletie, Lord. See Murray, J. W. 

Crocket, Major, 238. 

Croker, Crofton, 182, 185. 

J. Wilson, 17, 102, 202, 251, 382, 

384, 388, 422, 442, 443, 475 «., 549 ; 
on Malachi, 102, 106 ; Duke of Clar- 
ence, 171, 198, 200 ; dinner at the Ad- 
miralty, 201. 

Culross, excursion to, 494, 495. 

Cumberland, Richard, 85. 

Cumnor Hall, 423. 

Cunliffe, Mr., 379. 

Cunningham, Allan, 182, 185, 388 ?i., 395, 
397, 400; Scott's opinion of, 200. 

Curie, James, Melrose, 45, 127. 

Mrs., funeral at Kelso, 49. 

Cutler, Sir John, 46. 

Daily Routine, 523, 528. 

Dalgleish, Sir Walter's butler, 43, 85. 

Dalhousie, George, ninth Earl of, sketch 

of,336; Bannatyne Club, 429, 444,445 ; 

public dinner to, 463. 
Dalkeith House, pictures at, 325 ; visit 

to, 419. 
Dallas, Mr., 419. 
Dalrymple, David, Westhall, 497 and n. 

Sir John, 258, 327, 428. 

Lady Hew Hamilton, 174. 

Dandie Dinmont terriers, 107 ; Ginger, 

379 ; Spice, 529. 
Danvers, by Hook, 278 n. 
D'Arblay, Madame, 202, 399. 
D'Arcon, Chevalier, 561 n. 
" Darsie Latimer." See Clerk, W. 
Dasent, Sir George, 447 n. 
Dauphine, Madame la, 194. 
Daveis, Chas. S., 498 and n., 499. 
Davidoff, Count, 10, 30, 42, 138, 143; 

289, 292, 319, 325, 331, 371, 471 n. 

Denis, the Black Captain, 113, 319. 

Davidson, Prof,, of Glasgow, 481. 

Davis, Mrs., 396. 

Daw, Lady, 380, 382, 393, 533 ; Sketch 

of, 68, 69 and n. 
Dawson, Captain, 419, 566. 
Dead friends to be spoken of, 126. 
<* Death of Hector !" 308. 



Dee, Dr., 551. 

Defoe, criticism, 253 n., 255. 
Delicteriis, Chevalier, 575, 576. 
Demonology, The, 488, 492. 
Dempster, Geo., of Dunnichen, 442. 
George and Mrs., of Skibo, 259 and 

n., 439 and n., 442. 
Dependants at Abbotsford, 346 n. 
D'Escars, Duchess, 184. 
Descendants of Scott, 599, 600. 
De Vere, 273. 

Devonshire, Duke of, 195, 393, 394. 
Diary, custom of keeping, 341. 
Dibdin, Dr., 385. 

Dickinson, John, of Nash Mill, 294, 491. 
Disraeli, Benjamin, 14, 15 ; Vivian Orey, 

264. 
Distance ! what a Magician ! 111. 
Dividends, declarations of, 325. 
Dixon's Gairloch, 322 n. 
Dobie, Mr., 358. 

Dogs take a hare on Sunday, 173. 
Don, Dowager Lady, 62. 
Sir Alexander, 41, 74 ; sketch of, 

113; death, 114; funeral, 115. 
Boom of Devorgoil, 59, 60 w., 405 n., 455. 
Douglas, Archibald, first Lord, 18 and n. 

second Lord, 418 and n. 

Captain, R.N., 418. 

Charles, 159, 204. 

David, Lord Reston, 84. 

Dr. James, of Kelso, 301. 

Sir John Scott, 114, 115. 

Hon. Thos. See Selkirk. 

Dousterswivel, a, 144. 
Dover, Baron, 394 and n. 
Dover Clifif, 197. 
Dragut's Point, 567 and n. 
Drumlanrig, visit to, 158, 160. 
Drummond, Mrs., of Auteuil, 191, 193. 

Hay. See Hay. 

Dryburgh Abbev, 340 n. 

Dudley, Lord, 198, 324 n., 379, 553. 

Dumergue, Charles, 384, 395. 

Miss, 181, 185, 378. 

Duncan, Captain Henrv, 548, 553. 

Dundas, Henry, 32, 442. 

Robert, of Arniston, 38, 212, 261, 

322, 335, 337, 439, 441, 531. 
Sir Robert, of Beechwood, 4 and n, 

16, 94, 95, 132, 262, 356, 421, 422, 437, 

459, 460, 461,489. 
William, the Right Hon., Lord Reg- 
ister, 307, 322, 335, 429. 

Sir Lawrence, 219. 

Hon. Robert, son of second Lord 

Melville, 171. 
Robert, Adam, 170, 335. 



INDEX 



607 



Dunfermline, Lord. See Abercromby, 

Duras, Mr., 194. 

Durham, Bishop of. See Van Mildert. 

Baronial Hall, 302. 

Mr. and Mis., of Calderwood, 335. 

Duty, 108, 114, 127, 132, 133, 153, 154, 
155, 156, 170, 173, 245, 248, 268, 271. 

EcKFORD, John, 400, 443. 

"Economics," 13. 

Edgcumbe, Hon. Mrs. George, 394 n. 

Edgewell Tree, 461 and n. 

Edgeworth, Henry King, 284. 

Miss, 164, 280 n. 

Edinburgh Academy, discussion on flog- 
ging, 211 ; pronunciation of Latin, 225, 
226. 

Life Assurance Company, 32. 

Review, editorship of, 467 and n. 

Edmonstoune, James, 481. 

Edwards, Mr., 354, 355. 

Elcho, Lord, and Prince Charles-Edward, 
72, 73. 

Eldin, Lord, 228. 

Elections expenses, 178, 304. 

Elgin, Lord, 419, 534; imprisonment in 
France, 96, 209. 

Elibank, Lord, on English and Scotch 
lawyers, 98, 99. 

Elizabeth de Bruce, 224, 226. 

Elliot, Sir Gilbert, 320. 

Sir William, of Stobbs, 114, 115. 

Lady Anna Maria, 85 and w., 155 

and 71., 291, 308, 476. 

Ellis, Lady Georgiana, 394, 395. 

Mr. Agar. See Dover. 

Charles, Lord Seaford, 18, 191, 299 

and n. 

George, 161, 286, 341. 

Mrs. George, 337, 341. 

Colonel, 337. 

Rev. William, missionary to Mada- 
gascar, 477. 

Elphinstone, Mountstuart, 173. 

Sir R. H. D., 472 n. 

Emus, 278. 

" Epicurean pleasure," 7. 

Erdody, Count, 547. 

Erskine, Lord, 189, 453. 

David, of Cardross, 363. 

Henry, 453. 

William, Lord Kinnedder, 40 w., 50, 

60 7i, 384 ; destruction of Scott's let- 
ters, 548. 

the Misses, 269, 847, 419, 535, 536. 

H. David, 454. 

Essay on Highlands, 270, 273. 

Essex, Earl of, 400. 



Euthanasia, instances of : Dr. Black, Tom 

Purdie, 547. 
Evelina, 399. 
Exeter, 178. 

Exhibition of pictures, 353, 860. 
Expenses, 346. 

Fair Maid of Perth commenced, 316,331; 
progress, 355 ; publication, 378 n.; suc- 
cess of, 405. 

Falkland Palace, 478. 

Fancy Ball, 363, 364. 

Fauconpret, M., 298. 

Featherstone, Mr., 230. 

Felix, Colonel, 550, 551. 

Fellenburg, E. de, 493 and ?i, 

Ferguson, Prof. Adam, 449, 518. 

Sir Adam, 30, 122, 216, 217, 220, 

233, 238, 239, 273, 307, 308, 309, 810, 
312, 313, 413, 424, 444, 472 n., 481, 
483, 484 n., 492, 494, 495, 497, 511, 
522 ; Bonnie Dundee, 43, 45 ; New 
Year's Day dinner, 47; fall from horse, 
236 ; dinner at W. Clerk's, 240, 241 ; 
tour in Fife, 264, 265 ; at Blair- Adam, 
477. 

Colonel, 106, 108, 112, 121, 122, 

149, 155, 157, 164, 165, 170, 173, 233, 
245, 253, 254, 256, 277, 293, 297, 326, 
366, 379, 429, 447, 454, 459, 474, 483, 
510,522; Hogmanay dinner, 45 ; notes 
about Indian affairs, 298, 308, 309; 
meet of the hounds at Melrose, 310. 

Captain John, 245, 256, 338, 344, 

481, 510; return from Spanish Main, 
244; dines at Abbotsford, 298. 

Miss Isabell, death, 510, 511. 

Miss Margaret, 45, 104 and n., 173, 

421, 459. 

Miss Mary, 45 ; death of, 420, 421. 

the Misses, 32, 45, 104. 

James, 235, 452, 481. 

Fergusson, Sir James, 91. 

Dr., 385. 

Ferrars of Tarn worth, 374. 

Ferrier, James, 65 n., 223 and n. ; death 
of, 419, 420. 

Miss, 499 ; visit to Abbotsford, 541. 

Ferronays, Miss De la, 578. 

Feversham, Lord (Duncorabe), 302. 

Fiddle or Fiddle-stick, 99. 

Fielding's farce, Tumble-down Dick, 75 n. 

Fine Arts, poetry and painting, 75, 76. 

Fitzgerald, Vesey, 200. 

Fitz- James, Duke of, 194. 

Flahault, Count de, 190. 

Fletcher, Rev. Mr., 477. 

Fleurs, 291. 



608 



INDEX 



Floddenfield, 300. 

Foley, Sir Thomas, 554. 

Foote, Miss, 269. 

Foote's Cozeners, 389. 

Forbes, Viscount, saved by his dog, 11. 

Baron, 463, 464, 500. 

Hon. John, 552. 

Captain, 557. 

Sir John, 24. 

John Hay. See Lord Medwyn. 

Sir William, offers of assistance, 

54 and n.; sketch of, 61, 315, 363. 

George, 260, 430. 

William, of Medwvn, 446 and w., 

447. 
Foreigners at Abbotsford, 9, 16V. 
Forest Club, Scott dines with, 309. 
Fortune, a mechanist, 520 and n. 
Foscolo, Ugo, sketched, 10. 
Fouche, Baron, 191. 
Fox, Charles J., anecdote of, 389, 390. 
Foy's book, and the Duke of Wellington, 

303, 304. 
Francklin, Colonel, 47*7. 
Frankenstein, 112 w. ; dramatised, 263. 
Franks, Mr., 95. 
Freeling, Sir Francis, 384. 
French Press, censors of the, 309. 
Frere, J. Hookham, 569 and «., 570, 571. 
Fuller, John, M.P. for Surrey, 390 and n. 
Funerals, dislike to. 111, 116. 
Fushie Bridge Inn, 314 and n. 
Future Life, speculations on, 28-30. 

Gaeta, 590. 

Galashiels, 511. 

Galignani, Mr., Paris, 187, 188 n. ; offer 

for Napoleon, 195. 
Galitzin, Princess, 192, 193, 196, 285, 

442 and n. 
Gallois, M., 187 and w., 189, 190, 194. 
Gait's Omen, 84 n., 132, 139; Spaewife, 

484 ; Lawrie Todd, 502. 
Gardening, ornamental, essay on, for the 

Quarterly, 316. 
Garrick, David, Private cot-respondence 

of, 162, 330 n. 

Mrs., anecdote of, 138 n., 552, 553. 

Garstang, 374. 

Gattonside, 155 and n. 

Gell, Sir William, 572 n., 573, 575 n., 

576, 578, 580, 582, 583, 690. 
Genie and author, a Dialogue, 440, 441. 
George ii., anecdote of, 391, 392. 

III., anecdote of, 307. 

IV., Scott at Windsor, 182; Scott 

dines with, 391 ; statue, 462 ; death, 

498, 



George, Prince, of Cumberland, 395. 

Gibraltar, 560, 562. 

Gibson, John, jr., W. S., 52 and n., ; cred- 
itors agree to private trust, 61 ; meet- 
ing with Scott, Cowan, and Ballantyne, 
62, 63 ; creditors' approval, 66 ; lends 
Scott £240, 68, 79 ; Constable's affairs, 
106; Constable's claims, 132, 134; 
sale of 39 Castle Street, 142, 162, 174; 
Miss Hume's trust, 226, 240; Scott's 
travelling expenses, 258, 259, 294, 299 ; 
Lord Newton's decision, 311; Abud 
& Son, 311, 314, 315, 317, 318; value 
of the Waverlev copyrights, 318, 335; 
St. Bonan's Well, 343 ; Coal Gas Co., 
360, 365 ; plans for the Magnum, 372, 
405, 431, 446 ; preparations for a sec- 
ond dividend, 496, 499, 546. 

Gifford,Winiam, 17 ; funeral of, 222, 223. 

Baron, 135 and n. 

Lady, 548. 

Giggleswick School, captain of, 28. 

Gilbert, Dr. Davies, 388. 

John Graham, 416 and ?i., 419, 421, 

423, 473. 

Gillespie, trial of, and sentence, 319 and n. 

Gillian, the clan, 308. 

Gillies, Lord, 146. 

Robert Pierce, 146, 247, 254 and «., 

255, 284, 327, 342, 345, 368, 381, 450, 
452, 454, 473 ; characterisation of, 21 
and 71., 22 and n. ; diflBculties, 33 ; 
Scott offers Chiefswood, 33 ; in extrem- 
ity, 35 ; writes a satire, 143 ; a cool 
request, 171, 175 ; Foreign. Review, 176. 

Gillv, Rev. William Stephen, 277 and w., 
302. 

Gipsies of the Border, 314 n. 

Glasgow, visit to, in September, 1827, 
295. 

Glengarry's death, 347. 

Glenorchy, Lady, 393. 

Gloucester, Bishop of (Dr. Bethell), 305 
and n. 

Goderich, Lord, 294, 301 n., 336 and n. 

Godwin, William, 380, 393. 

Goethe, letters from, 234 and n., 379 w., 
592, 593. 

Goldsmith, Oliver, 391. 

Gooch, Dr. Robert, 99, 184, 481. 

Gordon, Alexander, fourth Duke of, 
323 n. 

Duke and Duchess, 465. 

Lady Georgiana, 323 and n. 

J. Watson, 353, 536 and n. 

Sir Wm. Cumming, 471 n. 

Major Pryse, Personal Memoirs, 284 

and n. 



INDEX 



609 



Gordon, George Huntly, amanuensis, 45 

and n., 51, 63 and n., 96, 221, 284, 286, 

288 ; sermons, 332, 348 and n., 361. 
Gourgaud, General, 195 w., 260, 290 and 

w., 294, 297, 298, 30Y, 309, 313. 
Gower, Lord Francis Leveson, Poetry, 9 

and n. ; Tale of the Mill, 232, 297, 380, 

386, 388, 395. 
Lady Frances Leveson, 386 and ti., 

391, 393, 395. 
Graeme, Robert, 258. 
Graham, Sir James, 555, 556. 

John. See Gilbert. 

Lord William, 543. 

of Clavers, 322. 

Miss Stirling, 324, 365, 461 ; Mys- 

tifications, 365 and n. 
Graham's Island, 565. 
Grahame of Airth, 98, 
Grange, Lady, 419. 
Grant, Sir Francis, 230 and n. ; sketch 

of, 529, 530 ; portrait with armor, 

531. 
Grant, Sir Willam, 391 and n. 

Mrs., of Laggan, 19, 27 and «., 542. 

Granville, Lord and Lady, 189, 190, 191, 

193, 195. 
Gray, Lord and Lady, 268. 
Greenshields, John, 418 and ?i., 419. 
Grenville, Right Hon. Thomas, 199 and 

w., 397. 
Greville, Lady Charlotte, 390. 

Charles, 386 n. 

Grey, Lord, 335. 

Grey Mare's Tail, 161. 

Griffin's Tales of the Munster Festivals, 

368 and n., 458 and n. 
Grosvenor, Lord, 400. 
Grove, The: Clarendon's pictures, 400 

and n. 
Guise's, Duke of. Expedition, — review of , 

in Foreign Quarterly, 93 and n. 
Gurney, Mr., 396. 
Guthrie's Memoirs, 345 n. 
Guyzard, M., 267 and n. 
Gwydyr, Lord, 203. 

Haddington, Lord, 426, 447. 

Haigs of Bemerside, 168 n., 255, 290, 309, 

407. 
Hailes, Lord, 438, 448. 
Haliburton, David, 149, 151, 399. 
Hall, Captain Basil, 96, 155 n., 208, 224, 

426, 463, 474, 476 n., 536, 554, 556. 

Sir James, 226. 

Halliday, Sir A., 461. 

Hamilton, Sir William, 19, 293, 427. 

Lady Charlotte, 396. 

39 



Hamilton, Robert, 132, 235, 241, 322, 
361, 413, 460, 461, 497. 

Captain Thomas, and Mrs., 143 and 

n., 150, 156, 158, 171, 278, 289, 293, 
309, 331, 474, 475, 485; Cyril Thorn- 
ton, 256. 

Bailie, 418. 

Hampden, Lady {nee Brown), 297, 322. 

Hampton Court, 162, 398 and n. 

Handley, G., 104, 121, 201. 

Harper, Mr., gift of emus, 278. 

Harris, Mr., 456. 

Harrison, Colonel, 384, 385. 

Harrowby, Lord, 335. 

Hartshorne's Ancient Metrical Tales, 429 
and n. 

Haslewood, Mr., 300. 

Haunted Glen in Laggan, 542. 

Hawthorne, N., on the English, 499 n. 

Hay, Mr., Under-Secretary of State, 198. 

E. W. Auriol Drummond, 166 and n., 

366, 367, 421, 426, 428, 430, 433, 465, 
559. 

Sir John, 28, 231, 362, 431 ; Bank- 
ing Club dinner, 435 ; meeting of the- 
atre trust, 468. 

Robert, Colonial Office, 185. 

Haydon, B., 271, 387 and n., 487. 

Heath, Charles, engraver, 351, 361, 383, 
431, 491. 

Heber, Reginald, 204 ; Journal, 438 and n. 

Richard, 14. 

Hedgeley Moor, 306. 

Hemans, Mrs., 483, 484, 485. 

Henderson, Mr., Eildon Hall, his funeral, 
360. 

Henry's History of England, 426. 

Hermitage Castle, sketch of, 88. 

Herries, Mr., 293. 

Hertford, Lord, 251. 

Hertfordshire lanes, 400. 

Highland credulity, 321. 

"Highland Society," and Miss Stirling 
Graham's Bees, 460, 461. 

Highland Piper, 134. 

Hill, Right Hon. Mr., 571 and n. 

Hinves, David, 396 and n. 

History of Scotland, in the Cabinet Cy- 
clopcedia, 458 and n. 

Hobhouse, John Carn, and Moore, 6, 8. 

Hodgson, Dr. F., 204. 

Hoffmann's Novels, reviewed for Foreign 
Quarterly, 255, 284. 

Hogarth, George, 52, 282, 400. 

Hogg, James, breakfasts with Scott, 30, 
31; in difficulties, 78, 124, 224 n. ; 
loses his farm, 230 ; Royal Literary 
Society, 256, 296 and w. ; his affair 



610 



INDEX 



of honour, 300 n., 338, 39*7 n. ; Six- 
Foot Club, 434 n. ; the Nodes Ambro- 
siaruBj 528 ; Scott's interest in him, 
628 74. 

Robert, 261 and n. 

Hogmanay dinner at Abbotsford, 45. 

Holland, Lady, 394. 

Dr., 185 and n. 

Holyrood, an asylum for civil debtors, 
313 and 7i. 

Home, Earl and Countess of, 138 n., 159 
and n. 

John, 315 ; his Works reviewed, 243 

and n., 251. 

Hone's Evet'y Day Book, 500. 

Hood, Sir Samuel, 407 n. 

Hook, Theodore, 198 ; John Bull, 198 ?i. ; 
Sayings and Doings, 357, 382 n. 

Hoole's Tasso, 133. 

Hope, General, the Hon. Sir Alexander, 
297 n. 

Right Hon. Charles, 18, 38 and n., 

351 and n., 459 and n. 

Dr., 293, 413. 

James, W. S., 9, 293 and n. 

John, Solicitor - General for Scot- 
land, 34, 87, 233, 267, 327, 420, 436, 
464 ; chairman to Lockhart's parting 
entertainment, 22 ; characterised, 32 
and n. 

Sir John and Lady, of Pinkie, 10, 

53, 461, 465; dinner at Pinkie, 351; 
"Roman" antiquities, 351. 

Lady Charlotte, 38. 

Hopetoun, Earl of, 267. 

Countess of, 436, 437, 472. 

Home, Donald, 349. 

Horner, Leonard, 225 and n. 

Horton, Wilmot, 182, 184 and n., 185, 
384. 

Hotham, Lady, 569. 

House of Aspen, 431. 

Howden, Mr., 90. 

factor for Falkland, 478. 

Howley, Archbp. See Canterbury. 

How to make a critic, 44. 

Hughes, Dr. and Mrs., 67, 181, 184 and 
«., 393, 420. 

John, 204. 

Mr., printer, 430. 

Hulne, Carmelite monastery of, 305, 306. 

Hume, Baron, 223, 232, 262, 275, 331, 
408, 428 and n., 468. 

David, burial-place, 59; deathbed, 

275 and n. ; Works of, 374. 

Lady Charlotte. See Lady C. Ham- 
ilton. 

Sir John, of Cowdenknowes, 172. 



Hume, Miss, 226. 

Joseph, M.P., 103, 198. 

Mrs., Warwick Castle, 375 and n. 

Hunt, Leigh, The Liberal, 8 and n., 352; 
"anecdotes of Byron," 359: Byron, 
363. 

Mr., Enghsh traveller, mur- 
dered, 581. 

Hurst and Robinson, 6 and w,, 13, 35, 52, 
60, 314 n., 334, 335. 

Huskisson, Hon. W., M.P., 175, 201, 203, 
384. 

Hutchinson, Mr., 361. 

Huxley, Colonel, 263. 

Imagination, wand of, 44. 

" Imitators," 179-181. 

Immortality of the soul, 28-31. 

Impey, Mr. and Mrs., 161, 162, 165. 

Inchmahome, 411. 

Inglis, Dr., 226, 365. 

Sir R. H., Bart, 185, 381, 386, 548. 

Innes, Mr. Gilbert, 468. 

Invernahyle. See Stewart. 

Ireland, Mr., 462. 

Irish Tour, 1. 

Anecdotes, wit, good - humour, ab- 
surdity, 3, 4. 

Irving, Rev. Edward, 386, 463 and «., 
464. 

Mr. (Lord Newton), 162. 

John, 424. 

Washington, 376. 

Itterburg, Count, ex -Crown Prince of 
Sweden, 252 and n. 

Ivanhoe dramatised, 189 and n., 475, 476. 

Jacob, Willi AM, 380 and n. 

James, G.P.R., letter from, 460 n., 515 

and n. 
Jamieson, Dr. John, 150 and n., 151,429, 
Jardine, Sir Henry, 53, 233, 475. 

Mr. and Mrs., 218. 

Jeanie Deans. See Walker, Helen. 

Jedburgh election, 122, 543. 

Jeffrey, Lord, 237, 262, 408, 467; ad- 

dress on the combination of workmen, 

11 and n., 210; on Wordsworth, 217; 

dinner and guests, 230 ; the poisoning 

woman, 236. 
Jekyll, J., 380. 

Jerviswoode, Lord. See Baillie. 
Jobson, Mrs., 157, 165, 206, 207, 223, 259, 

260, 315. 
Johuson,Dr., 390, 391, 399, 423, 439, 441, 

443, 456 ; Evelina, 202 ; epitaph on C. 

Phillips, 282. 
Johnstone- Alva, 611, 626, 634. 



INDEX 



611 



Johnstone, Mr. Hope, 161. 

Mrs. J., 224 and n. 

Mr. and Mrs., of Bordeaux, 481. 

the Border family, 136. 

Jollie, James, trustee, 52 m., 62, 144. 
Jones, Mr., 197. 

Miss, 361. 

Journal, reflections, 1, 20, 21 ; begins to 
tire, 309; Johnson's advice, 443, 456. 

Kain and Carriages^ 89, 90 and n. 
Katrine, Loch, scenery of, 333 and n. 
Keeldar, people of, 305. 
Keepsake, The, 328 n., 350, 361, 383, 431. 
Keith, Sir Alex., 321. 

William, 19. 

Mrs. Murray, The Highland Widow, 

129. 
Kelly's Reminiscences reviewed, 121. 
Kelso, visit to, 291. 
Kemble, Charles, 364. 

Stephen, 304, 

Fanny, 493, 497. 

Kendal, 205. 

Kenilworth, visit to, 375 and n. 

Kennedy, Rt. Hon. F., of Dunure, 279 

and 71., 496. 
Kent, Duchess of, 395. 
Kerr, Mr. and Mrs. Charles, of Abbotrule, 

371, 493. 

Lord and Lady Robert, 10. 

the Misses, 285, 318, 325, 335, 338, 

342, 420, 464, 490. 

of Kippielaw, 168, 177, 220. 

Kinloch, George, of Kinloch, on Malachi, 

146. 
Kinloch's Scottish Ballads, 241 and n. 
Kinnaird, Douglas, 393. 
Kinnear, Mr., 60, 362, 442. 
Kinnedder, Lord. See Erskine. 
Kinniburgh, R., 168, 169. 
Kirn Supper, 310 and n. 
Knight, Charles, 375 n. 

J. Prescott, 48, 50, 54 and n. 

Gaily, 3-86. 

Payne, 367. 

Knighton, Sir William, 91 and n., 181 

and n., 199, 319, 388, 481 n. ; letter on 

Constable's Miscellany, 24 ; dedication 

of Magnum, 391. 
Knox, Dr. Robert, 416, 417 and n., 421, 

447. 

William, a young poet, 26, 285. 

Kubla-Khan and Hastings, 48. 

Laidlaw, James, 173. 

William, 149, 173, 189, 218, 250, 

255, 398, 433, 434; Scott's letter to, 



^61 w. ; summoned to town, 66, 70, and 
n. ; death and funeral of child, 11 ; on 
sale of Napoleon, 272 n. ; adventure 
in Gladdies Wiel, 397 n. ; a walk with 
Scott, 459 ; Tom Purdie's death, 485 ; 
as amanuensis, 514, 516, 517, 521, 522, 
523, 524 ; opinion on Scott's Essay on 
Reform Bill, 525, 527, 528 ; at Count 
Robert, 533; smites the Rock, 53*6; 
Scott's illness, 544, 585. 

Laine, M., French Consul, 482. 

Laing, David, 263, 333, 389. 

Laiug-Meason, Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert, 571 
and n., 579. 

Zaird^s Jock, 328 n. 

Lambeth, 548. 

Landseer, Edwin, 420 ; picture of dogs, 
75, 76, 323 ; " Study at Abbotsford," 
351, 353. 

Lang, Andrew, Sheriff-Clerk for Selkirk- 
shire, 355, 526 and n. 

Andrew, ll.d., 526 n., 598. 

Lansdowne, Marquis of, 251, 293, 335; 
Scott dines with, 382, 383. 

Lardner, Dr., 454, 456, 462, 474, 475, 
484. 

Latin, Scottish pronunciation of, 257. 

Latouche, Mrs. Peter, 496, 503. 

Lauder, Sir T. Dick, 425, 470 and n. 

Laughter, natural and forced, 39. 

Laurie, Sir Peter, 385. 

Lauriston,near Edinburgh, 196,325 and n. 

Marquis de, 196. 

Law as a profession in Scotland, 23, 24. 

Lawrence, Captain, 556. 

Sir Thomas, 182, 184, 185, 198, 302, 

387 ; portrait of Scott, 203, 254. 

Lebzeltern, Countess de, 574. 

Leicester, Earl of, 397. 

Le Noir, M., 10. 

Leopold, Prince, 395. 

Leslie, C. R., 76; his portrait of Scott, 
48 and n. 

Lessudden House, 487, 503. 

Letters, arrangement of, 286. 

Levis, Duke de, 448 and n. 

Lewis, M. G., 5, 386 ; Lewis and Sheri- 
dan, 60 n. ; Journal, 309. 

Mr., method of improving hand- 
writing, 145. 

Leyden, John, 141, 227. 

L'homme qui cherche, 118, 243.) 

Library, enchanted, 204, 440. 

Liddell, Dr., 562, 570. 

Hon. Henry, 301, 633, 547. 

Misses, 304. 

Light come, light go, 67. 

Lilliard's Stone, 254 and n. 



612 



INDEX 



Lions iu Ed-inbur.gh, 144, 231 ; " Lions," 
412. 

Lister, T. H., Granhy, 106 

Liston, Sir Robert, 408. 

Literary Society, 386. 

Litigation in the Sheriff Courts, 31. 

Liverpool, Lord, 175, 202, 236. 

Livingstone, Rev. Mr., 418. 

Llandaff, Bishop of, 393. 

Loch, Mrs., 161. 

John and James, 39*7, 400, 443. 

Locker, E. H., 175 and n., 185 and n. 

Lockhart, John G., 1, 21, 247, 249, 263, 
274, 296, 301, 315 n., 319, 327, 330, 
359, 363, 377, 379, 385, 390, 392, 393, 
399, 409, 415, 416, 420, 461, 473, 481, 
489 and n., 490, 547, 550, 585 ; the 
Quarterly Review, 14-16 ; Blackwood's 
Magazine, 16-18; parting entertain- 
ment, 22 ; London, 22 ; Scott's confi- 
dence in and affection for, 26 ; Mala- 
chi, 91, 110; on Sir Walter's style, 
116; Hook, 198 and n. ; Scott's letter, 
home politics, 250 n. ; Hogg, 256 ; ac- 
count of Gillies, 264 ; Portobello, 269 
and n. ; Abbotsford, 285, 287; Kelso, 
291 ; Gar rick papers, 330 and n. ; 
Brighton, 393 ; Life of Burns, 402 ; 
Auchinrath, 418; Edinburgh, 418; 
Dalkeith, 420; Stewart papers, 424; 
letter from Scott regarding illness, 
Feb. 1820, 488 n. ; Chiefswood, 492 ; 
Hogg, 528 and n. ; accompanies Scott 
to Douglas, 544, 545. 

Mrs., 15, 21, 22, 31, 33, 99, 101, 127 ; 

birth of a son Walter, 117; Abbots- 
ford, 282, 340; birth of a girl, 842; 
Brighton, 382, 553. 

J. Hugh (the Hugh Littlejohn of 

the Tales of a Grandfather), 21, 22, 
101, 141, 179, 200, 274, 383, 395, 396, 
407, 473, 476, 483, 489, 492; death, 
674 and n. 

Walter Scott, 117; death, 127 and 

n., 483. 

Charlotte, 489 and n. 

Dr. and Mrs., 502. 

Lawrence, 296. 

Richard, 24 ; death of, 258. 

William, 22, 178, 184, 418, 426. 

William Elliot, 401 and n., 526. 

Logan's Sermons and Foems, 13 and n., 
109. 

Londesborough, Lord, 452 n. 

London, Scott's visit to, in October, 1826, 
179-185; in November, 1826, 197- 
204; in April, 1828, 377-400; in Sep- 
tember, 547: October, 1831, 547. 



Londonderry, second Marquis of, 190, 
286; Memoirs, 311. 

Third Marquis of, 302, 303,304, 811, 

390, 549. 

Fourth Marquis of, 307. 

Lady Emily, 388. 

Longman & Co., Woodstock, 114; Ameri- 
can Copyright, 201 ; Napoleon,224:, 227, 
274 ; St. Ronan's Well, 344 ; Encyclo- 
pcBdia, 450 ; copyright of poetry, 464 ; 
agrees to sell poetry, 469; sale com- 
pleted, 479. 

Lothian, Marquis of, 302, 305, 306, 307, 
360, 419. 

Louvre, the, 188. 

Lovaine, Lord, 459. 

Low, Alexander, History of Scotland^ 493 
and n. 

Lowndes, 399. 

Lucy, Sir Thomas, 376. 

Luscar, 494. 

Lushington, Mr., 584. 

Luttrell, Henry, 182. 

Lyndhurst, Lord, 175, 250. 

Lyons of Gattonside, 441. 

Lyttelton, W. H., 393. 

M'Allister, General, 278. 

Macau lay's History of St. Kilda, 419 
and n. 

MacBarnet, Mrs., 373. 

M'Cormick, Dr., 497. 

M'Crie, Dr. Thomas, on Old Mortality^ 
540 n. 

Macclesfield, 206. 

Macculloch, David, of Ardwell, 6 and w., 
155, 223. 

James, 462. 

Macdonald, L., sculptor, 516. 

Mareschal, 76 n., 193, 195. 

Macdonell of Glengarry, 76 and n., 77. 

Macdougal, Celtic Society, 61. 

Macduff Club, 477. See Blair- Adam. 

Macduff's Castle, 266. 

Mackay, Mr., from Ireland, 356, 357. 

Makay, Rev. Dr. Macintosh, 354 and w., 
355, 409, 426, 464, 465, 469, 452; 
Cluny Macpherson's papers, 354 ; Irish 
MS., 465 and n. 

MacKenzie, Captain, 72d Regiment, 308. 

Mackenzie, Colin, of Portmore, 4 n., 9, 53, 
56, 80, 85, 89, 95, 114, 270, 271, 309, 
493 ; character, 21 ; family, 141 ; son 
of, 204 ; new academy, 275 ; illness, 
331 ; Deputy Keeper of Signet, retire- 
ment from office, 346, 427 ; death, 601 
and n. ; lines by, 546. 

Hay, of Cromarty, 533. 



INDEX 



613 



Mackenzie, Henry, 27 ; sketch of, 23 ; his 

edition of Home's Works, 243 ; death, 

516. 

Lord, 135 and n., 169, 407. 

Sutherland, 321. 

William, 267. 

Mrs. Stewart, 407. 

Mackenzie's Hotel, 519. 

Mackintosh, Sir James, 72, 379, 447, 450, 

452. 
Maclachan, Mrs. and Miss Bell, 522. 
M'Laurin, Colin, 493. 
Macleod, Lord, 553. 

Alex., advocate, 358. 

Mrs., 553. 

M'Nab of that Ilk, 240 and n. 

Macpherson, Captain, 373, 

Cluny, papers, 354, 363, 364 ; visit 

to Edinburgh Castle, 436, 443, 464. 
Macqueen, Robert. See Braxfield. 
Macturk, Captain, of St. JRonari's Well, 

317. 
Magnum Opus prospectus issued, 434, 

435; printing of the, 454; success of, 

460, 467, 468 and n. ; Twentieth vol. 

issued, 507. 
Mahon, Lord, 388 n. 
Maida, the deer-hound and the artists, 48, 

107, 392 n., 573. 
Maitland, Frederick, capture of Bona- 
parte, 93, 96 and n. 

Miss, 472 n. 

Club, 434. 

Makdougall, Lady Brisbane, 163. 
Malachi Malagrowther, letters, 80, 81, 82 

and n., 87, 89-98, 103. 
Malcolm, Sir John, 202, 552, 553 and n. 
Malta, 552, 565, 570. 
Maltby, Dr., 385, 391. 
Manchester, 205, 561.. 

Duke of, 394. 

Mandrin's Memoirs^ 66 and n. 

Mansfield, 236. 

Mar, Earl of, 299. 

Marjoribanks, Mr. and Mrs. C, 399. 

Marmion, copyright of, 470, 473. 

Marmont, Marshal, 195. 

Marshall, Mr., 557. 

Marshman, Dr., Serampore missionary, 

227 and n. 
Martin, Davie, 418. 
Mary Queen of Scots, portraits, 3 ; and 

EUzabeth, 31. 
Masaniello, 458, 572 w., 596. 
Matheson, Peter, 148 and n. 
Mathews, Charles, Comedian, 31, 38 ; Ab- 

botsford, 49, 50, 51 and n. 
C. J., 49 and n. 



Matutinal inspiration, 72, 523. 

Maxwells, the, 136. 

Maxpopple. See Scott of Raeburn. 

Maywood, Mr., 263. 

Meadowbank, Lord, 449, 537. 

Meason, Mr. See Laing-Meason. 

Meath, Earl of, and the Duke of Wel- 
lington, 322, 389. 

Medwyn, Lord, 85, 144 and n., 257, 446 
n., 496, 520. 

Meleager, story of, 583. 

Melville, Lord and Lady (second Vis- 
count), 4, 9, 10, 16, 94, 95, 133, 147, 
175, 198, 201, 250, 293, 317, 321, 379, 
395, 397, 498 ; Mrs. Grant's pension, 
18, 19; Malachi, 94; Roxburgh elec- 
tion, 115; colleges in Scotland, 168; 
Bannatyne Club,269; resignation, 275, 
276 ; reappointment, 276 n. ; fall from 
his horse, 320. 

Sir James, Memoirs, 241 and n., 262, 

263. 

Menzies, John, of Pitfoddles, 226, 227 
and w., 384. 

Mertoun, 116, 149, 215, 290,291, 308, 310, 
345. 

Methodists, 64, 65. 

Meyersdorff, Baron A. von, 442. 

Mildert, Dr. William Van, Bishop of Dur- 
ham, 302 and n. 

Miller, Mr., 377. 

Archibald, W. S., 481. 

Miller's, General, Sotith American War^ 
474 and n. 

Mills, Scott's feeling regarding, 232. 

Milman, Dean, 549. 

Miln, Miss, 166. 

Milne, Sir David, 321. 

Nicol, 309, 487, 577 w. 

N., jun., 173, 369. 

Rev. Mr., Quebec, 513, 514. 

Milton, miniature of, by Cooper, 178. 

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 89 
and n. 

Minto, Gilbert, first Earl of, sketch, 40, 41. 

second Earl, 40, 149, 155; 

Abbotsford, 176, 228, 229, 230, 233, 
234, 279, 383, 384. 

Dowager Lady, 279. 

Minute Philosophers, 40. 

Mirbel, Madame, 192, 193, 194, 195,442 n. 

Misfortune sometimes convenient, 110. 

"Misfortune's growling bark," 123. 

Mitchell, Mr., Greek master, Academy, 
275. 

Moir, D. M. (Delta), lines on Leslie's pict- 
ure, 211 n. 

Moira, Lord, 214. 



614 



INDEX 



Mole, Monsieur de, 196. 
Moncreiff, James, 212 and n. 
Monmouth, Duke and Duchess of, at 

Moor Park, 400. 
"Mods Meg," 28, 430 and n., 433, 434, 

436, 559. 
Montagu, Lord and Lady, 67, 113 and n., 

115, 172, 443,553, 554. 
Lady Elizabeth (Dowager Duchess 

of Buccleuch), 321 and n. 
Monteath's Planter reviewed, 290 and n. 
Monteith's, Earls of, gardeners, 411. 
Monypenny, Alexander, trustee, 52 w. 

David. See Pitmilly. 

Moore, Thomas, 118 and ?i., 395, 403; 

characterised, 5, 6 ; regard for Scott, 6 

n. ; anecdotes of Byron, 71, 72 and n. ; 

breakfast with Scott, 184, 296 n. ; Life 

ofByron,363; visit to Hampton Court, 

398 ; Scott sends Byron's letters, 415, 

450 ; letter to Scott, 474 and n. 
" Morbus," the, 112. 
More, J. S., 134. 

Mrs. Hannah, Memoirs, 139. 

Morgan's, Lady, O^Dojinel, 99 and n. 

Morpeth, Lord', 191, 195. 

Morritt, John B. S., of Rokeby, 67; 

Scott's visit to, 177 and n., 178 and n. ; 

London dinner party, 381, 382 ; Scott's 

visit to, 402 ; Abbotsford, 415, 424 ; 

letter to Scott, 505 n. 
Morton, Earl and Countess of, 360 and 7i., 

406. 
Moscheles, Mr. and Mrs., 347, 348, 349. 
Moscow, burning of, 285. 
3fother Goose's Tales, 575, 598. 
Mottoes, for Woodstock, 104 ; for Count 

JRobert, 519 and n. 
Mount Benger, Hogg's farm, 338 «.,352 n. 
MSS. Waverley Novels, 535 and n. 
Mudford's Five Nights of St. Albans, 

473 and n. 
Munro, Mr., 365. 
Mure, Mrs., of Caldwell, anecdote, 51. 

of Auchendrane's trial, 405. 

Murray, Andrew, 163. 

Dr., Oxford, 133 n. 

Lord James, 269. 

Lady Caroline, 427. 

Sir George, 409. 

James Wolfe (Lord Cringletie), 211 

n., 360. 
John A., 85 and n., 146 and n., 208, 

210, 230 and n., 241, 247, 274, 427, 

482. 

Mrs. John A., 349. 

John, publisher, 14, 15, 330, 378, 

380, 387, 470, 473, 570. 



Murray, John, jun., of Albemarle Street, 

228. 
Sir Patrick, of Ochtertyre, 69 and 

n., 424, 468, 475, 481. 
Peter, of Simprin, 85. 

William, Henderland, 146, 208, 

210. 

W. H., Theatre Royal, 236 and w., 

239, 240 n., 468, 473. 
" Murder hole," 367 n. 
Murthly House, 499. 
Musgrave, Captain, 318. 
Music, 25, 282. 
Aly Aunt Margaret's Mirror, 325 and n., 

328 n., 378, 383. 
" My spinning-wheel is auld and stiff," V. 

Naboclish, 145 and n. 

Nairne, Mr., 435. 

Xapier, Colonel, 403. 

Lord, 511. 

Macvey, 467 n. * 

Naples, 570, 579, 584, 585, 587, 689. 

Napoleon, Life of, 62 ; finished 3d vol., 
136, 156; vol v. commenced, 157; 
swells to 7 vols., 165, 173 ; Longman's 
offer, 175 ; vol vi. finished, 218 ; vol. 
viii. proposed, 224 ; Longman's agree- 
ment, 227; proceeds, 228; Appendix 
to, 269 ; completion June 7, 263, 267, 
278 ; Brussels reprint, 287 ; prepara- 
tion for a new edition, 344, 346, 464. 

Maria Louise: Lord Elgin's anec- 
dotes, 97; Dr. Shortt, 233, 303; on 
the triple alliance, 306. 

Napoleon's last moments, 89. 

Nares, Archdeacon, 386. 

Nasmyth, Mr., dentist, 167. 

Navarino, battle of, 318. 

" Nell Gwynne's portrait," 353. 

Nelson, an amanuensis, 95, 96, 379. 

Neukomm, Mr.,482. 

Newark Castle, 338. 

Newbery, Mr., 343. 

Neweuhams, the, 28. 

Newton, Lord, decision, 281, 295, 299, 

311 326 

Gilbert S., R.A., 76, 182. 

New Year reflections, 46, 217, 340, 341, 

415, 512. 
Nicoll, Dr., Principal of St. Andrews, 171. 
Nicolson, John, 316 and n. 

Miss, 892. 

Nimrod, a deerhound, 242 and n., 454 

and n, 
Nocera, two towns of, 484 and n. 
North, Lord, 389. 
Northampton's, Lady, death, 492, 572. 



INDEX 



615 



Northcote, James, R.A., 388, 890 and n., 

391. 
Northumberland, Duke and Duchess of 

304 and n., 305 and w., 306, 388, 550. 
Nuncomar, Rajah, 392. 

O'Callaghan, Hon. Sir Robert, 18, 332. 
Oil Gas Company, 4 and w., 27, 28, 232, 

259, 264, 267, 319, 320, 330, 406. 
Old Mortality/, 540 n. 
Oliphant, Mrs., 322. 
Olonyne, Count, 10. 
Oran, 562. 
Ormiston, Bell, 372. 
Ormsby, Mrs., 376. 
Osborne, Lord Sydney, 477. 

Mr. and Mrs., 556. 

Owen, Mrs., 201. 
Oxenfoord Castle, 258, 413. 
Oxford, 203. 

Paestum, 579. 

Paley, Mr., 291. 

Palgrave, Sir Francis, 185 and 7i., 228. 

Palliser, Sir Hugh, 428. 

Palmerston, Lord, 293, 533. 

Pantellaria, 565. 

Papers mislaid, 23. 

Paris, 1826, 186-196. 

Parker, Miss, 399. 

Parkgate, 159, 160. 

Parr, Dr., 177. 

Parry, Captain, 379. 

Pasta, Madame, 319. 

Paterson, Dr. N., 535 and n. 

R. {Old Mortality), 535 n. 

Walter, 535 n. 

" Patience, cousin, and shuffle the cards," 

28. 
Patterson, David, 447. 

John Brown, 316 n. 

PauVs Letters to Ms Kinsfolk, 197 and w,, 

332. 
" Pearling Jean," 245 n. 
Peel, Right Hon. Sir Robert, 200, 201, 

202, 203, 250, 276, 395, 409, 436, 489, 

547 ; Chantrey's bust of Scott, 394 n. 
Penrith, 205, 374. 
Pentland Hills, admiration of, 317. 
Pepys' Diary, review of, in Quarterly, 43 

and n., 48, 52, 115 and n. 
Perceval, Mr., 214, 215. 
Percy, Captain, 459. 
Percy's, William, jo^ty*, 300. 
'* Percy's Cross," cottages at, 306. 

♦' Leap," 306. 

Pescara, Marquis di, tomb of, 585. 
Peterborough, life of, 451 and n. 



Petrie, H., 228. 

Pettigrew, Dr., 385. 

Pettycur, 266. 

Philips, Mr. and Mrs., 275, 288. 

Sir Geofge, 381, 392. 

Phillips, Sir Richard, 230. 

Phillpotts, Dr., Dean of Chester, 380 and n. 

Phipps, Mrs., 389, 390. 

Pickering, W., 393, 398. 

Pigot, Captain, 553, 554, 556, 557, 563, 

567. 
Pinkie House, 351. 
Piozzi, Mrs., 422, 516 and n. 
Piper, Mr., mail contractor, 489. 
Pirate's heaven, 61. 
Pitcairn, Robert, 454 and n. 
Pitmilly, Lord, 80 and w., 263 and «., 481. 
Pitsligo, Lord, 449. 
Pitt, Mr., 380. 

William, letters of, 397, 398. 

Planta, Joseph, 284 and n. 

Plantations at Abbotsford, 110, 116, 121. 

Platoff, 191. 

Playfair, John, burial-place, 59, 68 and n. 

Plays, Old, Hector of Germany, etc., 153. 

Fleydell, Paul, 460 w., 495 and n. 

Plunkett, Lord, 12 «. 

Plymouth, 557. 

Pole, Mr. Frederick, 56 and n. 

Politics, interest in, 80. 

Pompeii, 578, 579, 584. 

Ponsonby, Mr., and Lady Sarah, 307, 391, 

395. 

Hon. Miss, 374 n. 

Pontey, William, 535. 

Pontine Marshes, 589, 

Porchester's, Lord, Poems, 9 and w. 

"Portuous Roll," 115 n. 

Portland, Bill of, 547. 

Portsmouth, 554, 555. 

Potocki, Le Comte Ladislaus de, 503. 

Potocki's Manuscrit trouve d Saragosse, 

295. 
Powis, Earl, 386 and n. 
Preston, Sir Robert, 495. 
Prestonpans, visit to, 497. 
Primrose, Lady, 378, 
Prince's Street Gardens, Edinburgh, 259, 

413. 
Pringle, John, Rector of Fogo, 369. 
Alexander, of Whytbank, 254, 515, 

525, 526, 539. 
Alexander, junior, of Whvtbank, 30, 

166, 174. 
James Torwoodlee, 118 and «., 221, 

372, 525, 526. 

George, of Torwoodlee, 371, 372. 

Sir John, 345, 353, 510. 



616 



INDEX 



Pringle, John, of Clifton, 174, 220. 

junior, of Haining, death, 540. 

Mrs. Haining, 453. 

Thomas, 185 and n. 

Captain, Battle of Waterloo, 243, 

424. 

Major, 510,511. 

Pringlesof Stitchel, 512. 

of Tair, 244, 289. 

Prisons, 356, 357. 

Procter, Bryan Waller, 143. 

Proudfoot, Ohver, 358. 

Prudhoe, Lord, 550. 

Psalmody, Scottish, 270 and n., 466 and n. 

Purdie, Tom, 52; "S. W. S.," 71 w., 100, 

107, 121, 156, 167, 242, 243, 244, 250, 

273, 281, 285, 288, 337, 363, 443, 484 ; 

death of, 485. 
Purgstall, Countess, 155. 

QUEENSBERRY, WiLLIAM DoUGLAS, fourth 

Duke of (" Old Q."), 12 «., 159 and n. 

Duchess of, Catherine Hyde, 160 n. 

Quillinan, Mrs., 392. 

Rae, Sir William, 9 and n., 53 n., 231, 294 
n., 317, 424, 481, 489. 

Lady, 132. 

Raeburn, Sir Henry, his portrait of Scott 
given to Mr. Skene, 87 w. ; portrait of 
Scott for Lord Montagu, 138 n. ; por- 
trait for Constable at Dalkeith, 211, 
220 ; portrait now at Abbotsford, 
516 n. 

Lady, 149. 

Raine's, St. Cuthbert, 277 n. 

Rammohun Roy, 553 and n. 

Ramsay, Allan, and the Edgewell tree, 
461 and n. 

Dean, 127 and n. 

Lord. See Dalhousie. 

Wardlaw, 420, 423. 

of Barnton, 431. 

Ravensworth, Lord, 301. 

Castle, 301-304. 

Redding up, 118. 

Redgauntlet, 523. 

Rees, Owen, 181, 282, 468, 469, 470. 

Reform Bill, 525, 526, 529, 534, 547-549. 

Remside Moor, 306. 

Remusat, Charles de, 267 and n. 

Count Paul de, 267 and n. 

Rennie, Sir John, 226 and n. 

Renton, Mr., 393. 

Resignation of office as Clerk of Ses- 
sion, 508. 

Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 178 and w. , 391 ; 
Earl of Rothes' Portrait, 426, 439. 



Reynolds, Mr. {The Keepsake), 365, 361, 
367, 381, 383, 393, 449, 452, 458. 

Rice, Mr. Spring (afterwards Lord Mont- 
eagle), 395. 

Richardson, John, visit to Abbotsford 
and fishing adventure, 292 and n., 318, 
448 ; letter from, to Scott, 454 n. ; 
Claverhouse, 540. 

Riddell, Colonel, 449. 

Thomas, 116. 

Riddoch, Mr., of Falkirk, 98. 

Rigby, Miss. See John A. Murray. 

Robbins, Mr., 374. 

Robertson, Patrick, 170 and n. 

Robinson (of H. & R.), 315, 318. 

Robison, Mr. (afterwards Sir John), 416. 

JRob Boy at the Theatre Royal, 364. 

Robson's BJssay 07i Heraldy, 525. 

Roche, Sir Boyle, dream of, 145 n. 

Rodger, Mr. Peter, 510. 

Rogers, Samuel, 182, 202, 378, 379, 380, 
518 ; advice to Moore, 6 n. ; breakfast, 
184, 199, 201; Holland House, 394; 
Hampton Court, 398, 399. 

Rokeby, 177, 402. 

Rolland, Adam, Clerk of Session, 460, 
461, 494. 

Adam, of Gask, 460 n., 495 and n. 

Rollo, Lord, 91. 

Rome, 587, 589. 

Rose, Sir George, 263, 360. 

William Stewart, anecdote of By- 
ron, 7, 8, 17, 18 ; his Ariosto, 182 and 
n, ; at Stratford, 375 ; Brighton, 395, 
396 n. 

Ross, Dr. A., 224, 417, 428, 469, 509. 

Rossiter, N. T., 539. 

Rothes, Lady, 472. 

Roxburghe Club, 300, 386, 393. 

Royal Academy, London, 387. 

Literary Society, 256, 571 and n. 

Society, Edinburgh, dinner, 23, 208, 

231, 326, 416, 417; new rooms, 426, 
427, 433. 

Ruling passion, 140, 141. 

Russel, Alexander, anecdote told by, 
224 n. 

Russell, Claud, 9. 

Dr. James, 23 and n., 326, 363. 

Lord John, on Moore, 6 w., 380. 

John, 225 7i., 354. 

Major-General Sir James, of Ashes- 

tiel, 19 and n., 20, 30, 47,48, 106, 150, 
210, 249, 255, 256, 287, 370, 443, 512, 
515, 625, 637. 

Lord Wriothesley, 325. 

Misses, 46, 61, 297. 

Rutherford, Rev. John, of Yarrow, 369. 



INDEX 



61Y 



Rutherfurd, John, of Edgerstoun, 353. 

Dr., 451. 

Lord, in the Bride of Lammermoo)% 

Captain Robert, 94. 

Robert, 19, 210, 297. 

William, 295. 

Miss C, 57. 

Ruthven, Lord and Lady, 40, 531 and rt. 
Rutty, J., diary, 45. 

St. Agatha, 589. 

St. Andrews, visit to, in 1827, 265. 

St. Boswell's Fair, 149. 

St. Cuthbert's remains at Durham, 277. 

St. Giles, Edinburgh, 325 n. 

St. Mary's Loch, 159. 

St. Monans, 266. 

St. Paul's, Dean of, 381. 

St. Ronan's Well, Scott's opnion of, 150 ; 
Macturk in, 317, 320; new edition re- 
quired, 343 ; dramatised, 473. 

Saint Roque, 561. 

Saint Thomas Aquinas, tomb of, 585. 

Saladin's shroud, 321 n. 

Salerno, 581. 

Samothracian Mysteries, 382. 

Sanctuary, the, 313 and w., 314. 

Sanders, George L., miniature of M. G. 
Lewis, 5 and n. 

San Domenico Maggiore, 453. 

Sandford, Mrs. Professor, 419. 

Sam Cw/^o^ic^es, April mornings, 119. 

Savary, H., 39 and n. 

Scarlett, Sir James Y., 38. 

Schutze, Mr., 482. 

Schwab, Gustavus, 270. 

Schwartzenberg, 191. 

Scott, Lady, 31, 83 ; removal from Castle 
Street, 92, 98; illness, 102, 104, 107, 
115-124; death, 125; 373. 

Miss Anne, Scottish Songs, 25; char- 
acterised, 36; retrospect, 37, 74, 125, 
127, 318, 351, 370; London, 374, 404 
n. ; Milburn Tower, 408 ; Hopetoun 
House, 433; castle, 437, 443; Blair- 
Adam, 494, 513, 587. 

Walter, 92, 118, 127-129, 317-319, 

340, 342, 360, 378, 416, 538, 550, 555 ; 
choice of a soldier's life 24; 15th Hus- 
sars going to India, 46 ; generous offer 
from, 64 ; lines on Irish quarters, 151 ; 
revisits Abbotsford, 157, 158; at 
Blair-Adam, 161, 163; Ireland, 164, 
206 ; Dalkeith, 211, 213 ; Christmas at 
Abbotsford, 215, 218; dinner and 
guests at Hampton Court, 381, 382; 
inflammatory attack, 461, 462, 463, 



467, 473 ; wishes to preserve the li- 
brary, 513. 

Charles, choice of profession, 115; 

arrives at Abbotsford, 127, 130, 131, 
149 ; Drumlanrig, 158 ; Ireland, 164 ; 
return, 170 ; Scott's visit to Oxford, 
204, 241, 323, 325, 328, 335, 340; 
Foreign Office, 354, 378, 385, 416; 
Edinburgh, 475, 480, 512, 587. 

Thomas and Mrs., 5 n., 116, 205, 

394 n. 

Anne, niece of Sir Walter, 122, 148, 

154. 

Walter, nephew, 65, 73, 173, 493 

and n. 

Sir W., of Ancrum, 543, 553. 

of Bierlaw, 443. 

of Gala, 39, 165, 166, 351, 353, 366, 

374, 465, 488, 489, 491. 

of Harden, 66, 105, 108, 113-115, 

117, 122, 133, 139, 155, 170, 220, 234, 
255, 279, 287, 289, 292, 293 and 7i., 
308, 310, 322, 331, 341, 387, 391, 405, 
406, 408, 493, 511, 512, 513, 514, 517, 
526, 529, 543. 

John, Midgehope, 285. 

Charles, of Nesbit Mill, 169, 449. 

of Raeburn (Maxpopple), 103 and 

n., 121, 155, 167, 176, 254, 255, 328, 
454 and n., 459, 460, 481, 487, 503, 
534. 

of Scalloway, 466. 

of Woll, 488, 491, 535, and n. 

— — Charles, grandson of Charles of 
Woll, 285. 

Dr. of Haslar Hospital, 466. 

James, 460, 

Keith, 459. 

James, a young painter, 201. 

Scottish Nationality, 100. 

Songs V. Foreign Music, 25. 

Scrope, William, 47, 49, 70, 77, 112, 215, 
219, 220, 246, 247, 255. 277, 278, 281, 
353, 370. 

Seafield, Lord Chancellor, 135 n. 

Seaford. ^ee Ellis. 

Seaforth, Lady, funeral, 434 and n. 

Search for sealing-wax, 118. 

Selkirk, fifth Earl of, 380 n., 445, 481. 

Lady, 380. 

- — Club, 166. • 

election, 513, 543. 

Sheriff-court processes, 31. 

Selkirshire Yeomary Club dinner, 369. 

Seton, Sir Reginald Steuart, of Staffa, 
359 n. 

Seymour, Sir Michael, 556, 557. 

Shakespeare's house, 376. 



618 



INDEX 



Shandwick Place, No. 6, take possession 
Nov. 6, 182Y, 315. 

Shap Fells, drive over the, 205. 

Sharp, Sir Guthbert, 372. 

Richard, 161, 182, 185, 378, 380. 

Sharpe, Charles Kirkpatrick, sketched, 
1-3, 77, 144, 325, 379, 406, 408, 426 ; al- 
terations in Edinburgh, 219, 270; resto- 
ration of " Mons Meg," 436, 496, 652 n. 

Shaw, Dr., 141, 184. 

. Christian, 369. 

of Sauchie, 369. 

Shmvs, murder of, 300. 

Shelley, Lady, 317, 394, 397. 

Sir John, 392. 

Percy B., 8. 

Mrs., Frankenstein, 112. 

Shepherd, Sir Samuel, Lord Chief -Baron, 
34 and n.; sketch of, 38, 124, 134; 
Blair- Adam, 140, 141, 234, 259 ; Charl- 
ton, 265, 323, 327, 337, 340 ; at Colvin 
Smith's, 349, 351, 383; Blair- Adam, 
410, 411, 413, 475, 494. 

Sheridan, Rich. B., dull in society, 51 ; 
price of Drury Lane Theatre, 51 ; re- 
view of Life, 111 ; and Sharp, 378. 

Tom, 444. 

Sheriff muir trumpeter, 119. 

Shortreed, Robert, 115, 168, 253, 458, 
482 and n. 

(junior), 308, 476. 

Andrew, 254, 255, 397, 400. 

Pringle, 58. 

Thos., 168 n., 169. 

Shortt, Dr., 232, 233, 238. 

Siddons, Mrs. H., as Belvidera, 352, 468, 
473. 

Sidmouth, Lord, 397, 548. 

Sievwright, Sir John, 388. 

Silver fir, rapid growth, 156. 

Simond's Switzerland, 413. 

Simson, William, R.S.A., 246. 

Sinclair, Sir John, 54. 

• Lady, 54, 366. 

Misses, 297. 

Master of, 300, 370. 

Robert, 364. 

Singleton, Archdeacon, 306 and n. 

Six-foot-high Club, 434. 

Skelton, Mr., 479. 

Skene, James and Mrs., 21, 28 ; the Bos- 
wells, 39 n.; sketch of, 47; recollec- 
tions of Mathews, 51 n. ; recollections 
of financial crisis, 52, 53 w. ; a walk in 
Princes Street Gardens, 57, 58 n., 59, 
60 n., 75 ; proposal that Scott should 
live with him, 82, 99; letter from 
Scott on Lady Scott's death, 128 n.; 



the whaling captain, 137 n., 209, 213, 
218, 228, 232, 257; note from Scott, 
258 n., 259, 260, 264, 267, 270; at 
Abbotsford, 286, 309 ; Lady Jane Stu- 
art, 315 n.; at Abbotsford, 339 w., 
400; Princes Street Gardens, 413; 
Abbotsfoi-d, 415, 420, 424, 425 ; jour- 
nal, 430, 434, 435; Abbotsford, 447, 
449, 464, 466; the good Samaritan, 
471, 475; sketches of Waverley, 476 
and n., 496, 501 ; Raeburn's portrait 
of Scott, 516 n., 519 n., 520, 537; 
death, 574 and n. 

Professor George, 471 w. 

W. R, 537 and n. 

Skirving, Arch., artist, 88 and n. 

Smith, Colvin, 349, 351 and n., 353, 358, 
360, 406, 420, 462, 493. 

Mrs. Charlotte, Desmond, 101 and 

71., 223, 396. 

Horace, Bramhletye House, 179, 

180, 352, 556. 

John, builder, 515, 535 and n. 

Sydney, 236, 237, 241, 359, 392. 

Mr., Foreign Office, 182. 

Mrs., case of poisoning, 231, 236. 

Smoking, 7. 

Smollett, Captain, 18. 

Smythe of Methven, 145. 

Solitude, love of, v. Confinement, 105, 

108, 114. 
Somerset, Lord Fitzroy, 385. 

House, 388. 

Somerville, Lord, Life of, 232. " 

Dr. Thos., 169 and n. 

Sotheby, 185, 378, 382. 

Southey, Robert, the Quarterly, 14, 17, 

25, 139; Peninsular War, 181, 384 w., 

398, 425 n. ; Pilgrim's Progress, 499, 

504. 
Soutra, Johnstones of, 136. 
Souza-Botelho, Madame de, 190 and n. 
Spectral appearances and illusions, 31. 
Spencer, Lord, 386, 393. 

Hon. W. R., 191, 193, 257 iu 

Spice, a terrier, 279, 529. 

Stafford, Lord and Lady, 31, 199, 267, 

384, 392, 394, 397, 653. 
Stainmore, 177. 
Stanhope, Spencer, 176. 
Stanhope's Notes, 306 n. 
Steuart-Denham, Sir James, of Coltness, 

72 and n. 

Sir Henry Seton, 300, 334, 418. 

Stevenson, John, 95, 271, 289. 

Patrick James, 409 n. 

Stewart, Sir Charles and Lady Elizabeth, 

184. 



INDEX 



619 



Dugald, 323 n. ; death of, 406. 

J. A., 407 n. 

Sir J., of Muithly, 499. 

James, of Brugh, 13. 

Sir M. Shaw, 209. 

General David, of Garth, death of, 

285 and n. 

Thomas, 254. 

of Dalguise, 341, 342. 

younger of Invernahyle, 427. 

Mrs., of Blackhill, 108. 

Stirling, General Graham, 61. 
Stirlings of Drumpellier, 278, 279. 
Stoddart, Dr., 347. 

Mr., 552 n. 

Stokoe, Dr., 213. 

Stopford, Lady Charlotte, 160 and ?i., 352. 

Stowell,Lord (Sir William Scott), 398 and 

n., 558. 
Strange, Mr. and Mrs., 498. 
Strangford, Lord, 403. 
Stratford-on-Avon, mulberry tree from, 

307 and n., 375. 
" Strict retreat," 70. 
Stuart, General, of Blantyre, 275. 

Charles, Blantyre, 146, 275. 

Hon. Mr., 61. 

Mr., grand-nephew of Lady Louisa, 

422, 441. 
Sir John, of Fettercairn, 265 n., 

486 n. 

Sir John, 590. 

James, of Dunearn, 39 w., 421 ; sale 

of pictures, 425. 
Sir James, Allanbank, 270,415,421, 

424, 426. 
Lady Jane, letter to Scott, 310 and 

n.; an affecting meeting, 315 and n. ; 

old stories, 317, 328, 416 ; illness, 431, 

473 and n. ; death of, 486 and n. 
Lady Louisa, 68 and n., 133, 203, 

441, 549, 550, 553, 586, 587. 
" Stulko," 530 and n. 
Style, solecisms in, 117, 118. 
Sunderland, 304. 

Hall, 289. 

Surtees, Mr., 157, 158, 164, 170, 174, 203, 

372. 
Susex, Duke of, 385. 
Sutherland, Mr., Aberdeen, 456. 
Sutton, Right Hon. Charles Manners, 200 

and n. 
Swanston, John, 103, 156, 288, 513, 514. 
Swift's handwriting, 299. 
Swinton, Archibald, 163; dinner and 

guests, 211, 285, 321, 360, 365, 367. 
Swinton, Mr. and Mrs. George, 48, 258, 

285, 347, 426) 532. 



John, 134, 145, 264, 275. 

Harriet, 501. 

Mrs. Peggie, 19, 285. 

S. W. S., 71 n. 

" Tace is Latin for a candle," 245 and n. 
Tait, Archbishop, 275 n. 

Craufurd, 275. 

Talbot, Miss, 584. 
Tale of Mysterious Mirror, 378. 
Tales of Crusaders^ 523. 
Tales of a Grandfather, first thought of, 
259; arranged with Cadell, 261, 270; 
progress of, 277, 299 ; first volume fin- 
ished, 281; last proof corrected, 319; 
request to revise, 338 ; new edition, 
370; second series begun, 378, 451 ; 
third series in hand, 451 ; France, 511. 

Talleyrand, 184, 554 n. 

Tamworth, 376. 

Tangiers, 559. 
Tanneguy du Chdtel, 136. 

Tarentum, Bishop of, 573. 

Taschereau's Life of Moliere^ 342, 346. 

Taylor, Sir Herbert, 533. 

Jemmy, 467. 

Watson, 388. 

" Teind Wednesday," 24 n. 

Temple, Sir William, 400. 

Terracina, 490. 

Terry, Daniel, 124, 145 ; visit to Abbots- 
ford, 150, 153, 165,182, 183, 230 ; ruin, 
379,400; illness,476; death,483 and w. 

The Great Twalmley, 6. 

TJieatre of God''s Judgments, 327 n. 

Royal, meeting of trustees for, 468. 

Theatrical Fund Dinner, 236 and w., 237, 
238. 

" The grave the last sleep ?" 267. 

Theobald, Mr. and Mrs., 371. 

Thomas, Captain, 477 and n. 

Thomson, David, on Moore, 30. 

David, W.S., 292. 

Rev. George, tutor at Abbotsford, 

44 and n., 215, 219, 504 n., 511. 

Mr., Mrs., and Miss Anstruther, of 

Charlton, 246, 265, 338, 340, 410, 411. 

Rev. John, of Duddingston, 70, 145, 

247, 353, 361, 410, 411, 494, 544. 

Thomas, Deputy Clerk-Register, 40, 

85 and n., 89, 133, 145, 146, 233, 241, 
262, 264, 267, 276, 279, 281, 322, 355, 
430, 620 n. 

Thomson's Tales of an Antiquary, 371. 

Thornhill, Mr., 307. 

Colonel, 174; hawks, 174. 

Thornhill, Sir James, 400. 

Thrale, Mrs., 202, 399 and n. 



620 



INDEX 



Thurtell & Co. at Gill's Hill, 148 n., 402 

and n. 
Ticknor, George, of Boston, 48 n., 296 w., 

499 71. 
Tighe, Usher, 423. 
''TUed haddock," 498 and n., 600. 
" Time must salve the sore," 63. 
Tod, Miss, lYS.* 
Tod's, Colonel, Travels in Western India, 

430 w. 
Todd, Miss, 285. 

Thomas, 170 and n. 

" Tom Tack," 250. 

Tone, Wolfe, 284. 

Torphichen, Lady, 364. 

Torre del Carmine, 572. 

" Touch my honour, touch my life," 98 

and n. 
Townshend, Lord Charles, ^74. 
Trafalgar, 560. 
Train, Joseph, 452, 
Tranent, riots at, 561. 
Travelling expenses, 1790, contrasted with 

1826, 205, 206. 
Treuttel & Wurtz, 342, 367. 
Tripp, Baron, 303, 304. 
Trotter, Coal Gas Co., 365. 

Sir Coutts, 387. 

Tuilleries, 194. 

Tunis, 565. 

Turner, Rev. Mr., and Lord Castlereagh's 

Memoirs^ 311. 

Dr. 516. 

Messrs., Malta, 587. 

Turner's J. W., illustration to Poetical 

Works, 534, 536. 
Tweeddale, Marquis of, 327, 428. 
Tytler, Alexander Fraser, 154 w. 

Mrs., of Woodhouselee, 154, 155. 

Patrick Fraser, 231 and n.,488 ; his 

History of Scotland, 438, 450. 

Union Scottish Assurance Co., meeting 

of, 320, 321. 
University Commission, 168, 213 and n, 

316 n. 
Upcott, William, 162. 
Uprouseye then, my merry, merry men, 422. 
Utterson, 385. 

Vandenhofp, Mr. as Jaffier, 352. 

Van Mildert, Bishop of Durham, 302 

and n. 
Vasa, Prince Gustavus, 252 and n. 
Veitch, James, 449. 
Velletri, 590. 
Venice Preserved, 352. 
Ventriloquism, 50. 



Vere, Hope, of Craigiehall, 327, 428. 

Lady Elizabeth Hope, 327, 428. 

Verplanck, Mr., 263. 

Vesci, De, 305. 

Vesuvius, 555, 571. 

Vicaria, the, 578. 

Victoria, Princess, 295. 

Vienna, congress of, 306. 

Views of Gentlemen's Seats, 341. 

Vilhena, don Manuel, Fort of, 567 and 

n., 568. 
Volturno, 589. 

Waldie, Mr., of Henderland, 166. 

Walker, engraver of Raeburn's portrait 
of Scott, 138 and n., 261. 

teacher of drawing, 88 and n. 

H, 295. 

of Muirhouselaw, 254, and n. 

Lieut, (afterwards Sir Baldwin), 

564 and n. 

Sir Patrick, 463. 

Miss A., 295. 

Helen, tombstone at Irongray, 540 

and n. 

Walker Street, No. 3, Edinburgh, 206 n. 
(from Nov. 1826, to June, 1827). 

Wall in " Pyramus and Thisbe," 12. 

Wallace's sword, 28. 

Walpole, Horace, Historic Doubts, 239, 
341. 

Walton & Cotton's Angler, 398 n. 

Ward, R. Plumer, 261, 273 n. 

Mr. (Dover), 197. 

Warkworth, 306. 

Warroch, Mr., 497. 

Warwick, Lord and Lady, 375. 

Castle, 375, 

Water-cow, in the Highlands, superstition, 
321, 322 and n. 

Watson, Capt., 471 n., 536 and n, 

Wauchope, Mr, 321. 

Waverley novels, plans for buying copy- 
right, '318, 331, 332, 334, 469; con- 
tinued demand for, 344 n. 

Weare's murder, 148 n., 401. 

Weatherby, 178. 

Weber, Baron, 123. 

Henrv, amanuensis, 96, 221, 379. 

Wedderburn, Sir David, 322, 

Lady (nee Brown), 268, 297, 322. 

Weir, Major, 226. 

Wellesley, Marquis, 335. 

Wellington, Duke of, 175, 198, 200, 236, 
240, 247, 250, 270, 335 n., 340, 342, 
346, 384, 387, 392, 393, 394, 418, 424, 
446 n., 465, 547 ; dinners and guests, 
200 seq. ; Scott's interviews with, in 



INDEX 



621 



London, 203, 22Y; Scott's letter to, 
234 w. ; Canning, 2*76, 28Y, Ravens- 
worth Castle, 301 and n. ; Baron Tripp, 
303; and Earl of Meath, 322; Lord 
Mahon, 388 n. ; Catholic Bill, 425 and n. 

Wemyss, Captain, 266. 

Westphalia, King of, 589 and n. 

Whistlecraft, 571. 

White, Lydia, 185, 199 ; death, 229, 230 
and w., 412, 553. 

Whitraore, Lady Lucy, 171. 

Whittingham, 301, 305, 306. 

Whyte, Miss, 580, 582. 

Widow-burning in India, 20. 

Widow ladies' requests, 105. 

Wilberforce, 381. 

Wilkie, Sir David, picture of king's ar- 
rival at Holyrood, 48; at Somerset 
House, 76, 420 ; portrait for Magnum^ 
432 ; and letter from, to Scott, 432 n. 

Williams, Archdeacon, 271 and w,, 276, 
290, 354, 360, 408, 410, 413, 519. 

H. W. ( " Grecian " ), 88 and w., 

246. 

Williamson, W., of Cardrona, 83 n. 

Wilson, Adam, 213, 477. 

Professor John, letter from Lock- 
hart, 17 w., 227, 296 and w., 359. 

Mr., of Wilsontown, 146, 185. 

Sir Robert, 287. 

R. Sym, 33. 

Harriet, Memoirs, remarks on, 27. 

Wilton nuns, " go spin, your jades," 70, 
101, 243. 

Winchelsea, Lord, and Wellington, 443 n. 

Windsor Castle, 183. 

Wishart's Montrose, 346 n. 

" Wishing-cap," power of, 43. 

Witchcraft, Joanna BailUe, 279. 

Withers, Pope's epitaph, 79. 

W., 397. 



Wood, Sir Alexander, 363. 

John Philip, 498 and n. 

Woodstock, in progress, 6 and n., 46, 46, 
63, 72 ; 2d vol. ended, 74, 78, 81, 83, 
93, 102 ; finished, 105, 106 ; Longman 
buys, 117; copyright, 131; price of, 
267 n. ; annotated, 511. 

Wooler, 301, 306. 

Worcester, 205. 

Marquis of, 385. 

Wordsworth, William, 176, 217; anec- 
dote of, 218 ; lines on Hogg, 296 n. ; 
392, 393, 395, 398 ; at Abbotsford, 546, 
547 and n. 

Miss, 647 and n. 

Bishop, 547 and n. 

Wrangham, Archdeacon, 396. 

Wright, Sir John, 290. 

Rev. Thomas, of Borthwick, 336 

and n. 

W,, Lincoln's Inn, 17, 201 and «., 203. 

Wyatville, Mr., 183. 

Wynn, Charles, 395. 

YARROvy, excursion in August, 1826, 158 ; 

in December, 1827, 338; in May, 1829, 

459; in July, 1829,485; in September, 

1831, 547. 
Yates, Dr., 184, 395. 
Yeliu, Chevalier, 57, 59. 
Yermoloff, General, 285. 
Yester, pictures at, 328. 
York, Duke of, 198, 202, 203; death, 

219 ; funeral, 224. 

Cardinal Duke of, 481. 

Young, Alexander, of Harburn, 95 and n. 
Charles Mayne as " Pierre," 852, 

353 and n. 
Dr., and Miss, Hawick, 379, 501, 

502, 508. 

Zetland, 467. 



THE END 



SIR WALTER SCOTT'S JOURNAL. 

The Journal of Sir Walter Scott, 1825-1832. From the Original 
Manuscript at Abbotsford. Library JSdition. With Two Por- 
traits and Engraved Title-pages. 2 volumes. 8vo, Cloth, Uncut 
Edges and Gilt Tops, $7 50. 

The " Journal " presents a varied and vivid picture of Sir Walter Scott's exist- 
ence during the years in which he kept it. Unpublished letters from him and oth- 
ers serve to illustrate the text, while extracts from the reminiscences in manuscripts 
by Skene and Ballantyne give many interesting particulars about Sir Walter, Those 
who read the " Journal " will clearly understand what he was as a man, and such a 
man as he is the more beloved the more intimately he is known. He reveals him- 
self with perfect candor and completeness in his " Journal," and he appears even 
greater in its pages than in other works from his pen which are prized as English 
classics. — London Times. 

No memorial of any British man of letters which has been published in the last 
quarter of a century, and several of considerable importance have been published 
during that time, can be said to approach, in the interest that it creates iu reading, 
and in the affectionate hold that it has in memory, " The Journal of Sir Walter 
Scott." — N. Y. Mail and Express. 

It is more interesting and more invigorating than is Lockhart's work itself, No 
biographer intrudes with his pity or grows dull with his comments. It discloses an 
episode, as it were, but it discloses it unreservedly and transparently. It speaks 
without restraint. It is full of the buoyancy and sturdiness which are the very 
spirit andxSubstance of its indomitable author. — N. Y. Commercial Advertiser. 

A rare revelation of the noble character of one of the world's great men. In an 
utterly simple, unconscious way. Sir Walter Scott was a veritable hero, and this jour- 
nal, written in his last years, is chiefly valuable for conclusively proving this fact. — 
Literary Worldy Boston, 

The manner in which the " Journal " has been prepared for publication deserves 
hearty praise. Mr. Douglas is a conscientious and competent editor, and he has 
supplied all the notes which are required for elucidating the text without making 
a parade of supei-fluous learning. . . . This final work by Sir Walter Scott is as in- 
structive and welcome as any which he penned. — Athenceum, London. 

This is such a book as the world has not often seen. . . . These two impressive 
volumes contain one of the most effective pictures of a really strong man, painted 
as only that man himself could have painted it, which the English language con- 
tains. . . . This book is one of the greatest gifts which our English literature has 
ever received. — Spectator^ London. 

A better tempered, less morbid diary never was published. ... No extracts can 
do justice to the book as a whole — to the manly, cheerful, tender spirit of the man. 
These two volumes are worth a library full of the literary Dryasdusts who generally 
write journals. — N'. Y. Herald. 

Certainly all who read these volumes will rise from their perusal with a deepened 
admiration for one of the noblest and best of men. — Fall Mall Gazette, London. 

The " Journal," as it stands, is full of interesting glimpses into the great author's 
mind, and reveals, in a striking manner, the inextinguishable buoyancy with which 
he encountered misfortune, the iron perseverance with which he set himself to clear 
away the mountain of debt with which he found himself burdened when his best years 
had passed, the keen sense of honor and duty which marked even his most private 
communings with himself, and the gay humor which characterized him whenever the 
clouds parted for a moment and permitted the sunshine to pass. ... It is indeed 
a valuable contribution to our knowledge of Sir Walter Scott. — JV. Y. Tribune. 



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